Tonight, Not Again
by stillhavemyheart
Summary: Bella, a nurse at a local hospital, has a one-night stand with what turns out to be her new co-worker, Dr. Edward Cullen. Being with him is complicated, but staying away from him seems to be much harder than she thought.
1. In the Morning

**I'm just having fun here. Some this is inspired from Grey's Anatomy, some from my own day to day craziness working in the hospital. This is unbetaed and taken through multiple spell checks, but there may be mistakes. Apologies in advance.**

**Obviously I don't own either Grey's Anatomy or Twilight. If I did, I'd have a bigger apartment and a fancier car. And Comcast wouldn't be breathing down my neck over late payments. Oh well.**_  
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_I'm afraid to be swept away _

_Upstream there's a spring that brings in the new day _

_These are the gifts we keep _

_And this is the morning that we breathe _

_And then we see _

_These moments are the only gifts we need_

(In the Morning, Jack Johnson)

4:30 am.

4-freaking-30 am.

I used to be a morning person. When I was a fresh faced, bright eyed nursing student excited about just about everything, getting up at 4:30 meant being one day closer to getting my license. Don't get me wrong I love my job – it just takes until about 5:30 and a cup of coffee to start feeling that way again.

Setting my eye mask on the nightstand, I stretch my arms and rummage through my dresser for underwear, a bra, and a tank top. With any luck, they'll somewhat match. Not that there's any one I'm planning to show them off to in the next twelve hours.

"Rose get up!" I flip her light switch on and off, earning myself a good morning "fuck you" and a slipper launched in my general direction. "Whatever sunshine, I'm taking a shower. You better be up by the time I'm out."

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbles into the pillow, pulling her long hair across her face to shield her eyes from the light. Rose has blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a mouth that could rival any sailor's. She's been my best friend since the first day of nursing school, and we've been pretty inseparable since.

When I get out of the shower, there's coffee in my purple travel mug, and sleepy looking boy with blonde hair in my kitchen.

"Thanks bro," I grin, bumping his hip lightly with mine. Jasper's not actually my brother, he's Rosalie's, and while I probably should feel weird parading around him in my underwear I don't. He's seen it all in the locker room anyway.

Jasper works as a trauma nurse in testosterone central – also known as the ER – while Rose and I work the less glamorous Med-Surg floor and run the ICU on occasion. We slave over five patients each and take on admits and discharges like they're going out of style, while Jasper flashes dazzling smiles and gives morphine injections. Clearly he got the better end of the stick or whatever.

I pull on my navy blue scrub cargo pants, pulling the ties into an uneven bow. They aren't the shitty Costco two pack scrubs; I spend money and get the fancier Koi ones because I figure if I have to wear them four days a week, I might as well be comfortable. Plus, they're a little more flattering than the uni-sex ones and I am a single 20-something year old after all. 26 to be exact. My mother would be pulling out grey hairs wondering why I'm not married yet.

I pull the matching navy blue top over my head, the slight scoop neckline showing the tiny pink ribbon necklace that nestles right between my collar bone.

"Hey, Jazz…" after years of growing up with a little sister, Jasper is freakishly good at French braids. It's a sworn secret, and the only reason I know is because I walked in on him braiding Rose's hair once. He does mine for me as long as I swear to all that is holy that I'll never tell a soul.

His calloused fingers make quick work of my damp hair, securing the end with a red hair tie. He's wearing hunter green scrubs and rocking them like he stepped right out of a Scrubs and Beyond magazine. He gives my braid a light tug before heading for my door. "We're leaving in five, B." I salute him in response, starting the arduous task of gathering my belongings and stuffing my pockets.

Pearl blue littman stethoscope around my neck? Check.

Hemostats and a roll of tape clipped to the loop on my pants? Check.

Bandage scissors, pens, penlight, post-its, and alcohol wipes in my left shirt pocket? Check.

Folded brain sheets in my right pocket? Check.

Jelly beans also in my right pocket? Definite check.

Let's do it, Wednesday.

.o.o.o.

"Are you fucking kidding me? If I have to scrub vomit off my shoes one more time today I'm handing in my license and switching to modeling like my mother always dreamed." I roll my eyes at her, because no matter how much vomit she takes to the shoes, we both know she's not quitting in the next forty years. We slaved through too many years of nursing school to get here, and besides I know she loves what we do. We both do, vomit just comes with the territory.

Rosalie's mom wasn't exactly supportive when Jasper and Rose both decided they wanted to be nurses. And by not supportive I mean she cut them off from the family and the finances. Thankfully for them (and me as their eventual rommmate) their Dad had already bought them their apartment and sent sizable envelopes of green to them around Christmas time. My Dad usually sent me a picture from his latest fishing expedition and a classic guilt trip line about not coming home, but I still wouldn't trade him for the world.

"I don't know, Rose, I think if it came down to it I'd choose the vomit shoes over stilettos and your mother."

"I think you have a point, Bells."

I threw a tub of Sani-wipes to her from the shelf in front of me, scanning the rows of neatly labeled supplies for what I need. I swear maintenance comes in here and switches around where everything is weekly just to screw with us.

"Why can't I find the stupid abdominal pads – oh that's a great place to put them, next to the urinals. Not, you know, near the gauze and other wound care supplies." She just shrugs in response, tossing her wad of used sani-wipes in the trash bin and dousing her hands in purrell.

"Do you have 32 again? Better grab some extra gauze, B. Last time I packed that wound it took 19 gauze and three ab pads. Oh and take a face mask too… they don't have any in the isolation cart outside his room and I have never smelled a wound that bad…"

She flashes me an evil grin as I grab a facemask, sticking my tongue out at her as I go. I stuff my pockets with gauze, q-tips, tape and every other thing I can fit in there. I swear my scrubs have pockets that would rival Mary Poppins' bag any day.

Mr. Banner in 32 is an 86-year old male with a large wound across his abdomen secondary to three abscesses being removed. He is also a type II diabetic, which means he has poor vascularization and wound healing. He has stage IV colon cancer that has metastasized into his brain, and is here to stabilize his wound before he can go to a SNF and eventually hospice care. Because that's not enough, he has MRSA in his wound, which means I have to put on a yellow gown and gloves every time I want to poke my head in there or do anything.

"Hey Mr. Banner, how's your pain right now?" I tie the yellow isolation gown around my neck, and reach for the box of size small gloves.

"It'd be a whole lot better if I didn't have people poking and prodding at me every five seconds like I'm a god damned lab experiment!"

"You know, lab experiments tend to be a lot smaller, fuzzier, and cuter." He laughs, chucking an empty juice box over my head and landing it in the trash bin. "Well played. So pain level? I'm about to shove a bunch of Q-tips and gauze in your abdomen so it's for your own good."

Because of the slow healing time of his wound, he's been here for two weeks already, a rarity on the Med-Surg floor where the average stay is like 2.3 days. I've had him as my patient six times already, so we've built up a pretty good rapport. He used to be a Biology teacher back in the day, so when he's in a good mood he'll quiz me on things to make sure I'm still sharp.

"10, doll. Always a 10." He pushes himself up in bed, straightening his glasses on his nose. For a ten, he's awfully chipper and mobile, but I just shrug and write it on the white board anyway. Pain scales are subjective so if he says ten, I have to write ten.

I open up his eMAR on the computer, scrolling down until I see what I'm looking for; Morphine sulfate at 2 mg/ml. I highlight it, click administer, and pull the carpujet out of my pocket. I use an alcohol wipe to scrub the port on his peripheral IV before connecting the syringe, slowly pushing in the morphine, then give him five minutes to let it sink in, tying my facemask behind my ears and setting up my supplies around the bedside.

The first part is fairly easy, requiring clean gloves and my ability to remember numbers in my head. I remove the tape first, walking my fingers along his skin as I do to prevent unnecessary tugging and pain. Rose was right; I remove three ab pads, six dry gauze, and thirteen purulent, blood soaked gauze before placing the latter in the biohazard trash can. I remind myself to thank Rose later for the facemask tip.

"How are you doing, over there?"

"Fine, fine. How's it look?"

"Definitely better than the last time I saw it." Red, beefy granulation tissue covers most of the wound bed, with only a small amount of yellowish slough in one corner. I remove my dirty gloves and open the packet of sterile gloves, careful not to break sterility. Once I have them on, I start to remove my sterile products and set up my sterile field.

Long Q-tips are used to twist each piece of gauze and pack the inside of the wound bed. I pack slowly and with focus to avoid breaking sterility and having to re-glove. It's okay to re-glove if needed, it's just a pain if you have to do it. Once the wound is packed, I place six dry gauze on top before removing my no longer sterile gloves and switching back to the green standard gloves. I lay the ab pads flat over the wound, and tape them in place.

"What are you doing now?" Mr. Banner calls out, raising an eyebrow as I pull out my marking pen.

"Autographing my work, what else?" I write my initials, the date, and time in the bottom right corner before putting on yet another pair of new gloves and charting my wound care in the computer. I clean up, remind Mr. Banner where his call light is, and take off my PPE to scrub my hands.

Back at the nurses station, things are in full swing. Jane, one of the other nurses, is arguing with the charge nurse, Shelly, about a doctor's order for one of her patient's. I peak my head into my other patient's rooms, administering meds and checking pain levels and doctor's orders.

Lunch can't come soon enough.

"Are you familiar with Dr. McDouchebag?" Rose drops her tray down unceremoniously on the table, leaning back in the plastic cafeteria chair.

"Clearly, not. Spill," I reply through a mouth full of salad, picking a fry off her plate.

"So I have one of Witherdale's post-op back surgery patient's, right? And like normal, he didn't prescribe nearly enough pain coverage. So my patient who is normally a pretty nice person, is hitting the call bell every five seconds, screaming, and trying to climb out of her bed. So I call him to ask for a different pain med, right? And do you know what he says?" I steal another one of her fries, ignoring my salad now. Witherdale is notorious for being an asshole to nurses, and I've been lucky not to have any of his post-op's for the past month. "He screams at me on the phone, 'Aren't you capable of managing your patient's pain by yourself?' To which I replied, 'Yeah, when I'm prescribed the correct meds to do so.' After which he hung up on me, and refused to answer his phone. Stop eating my fries, you hussy."

She smacks my hand away, taking a long drink from her coffee cup.

"Just call one of the hospitalists and go over his head. That's negligence and straight up bull shit."

"Yeah, I already did." Rose's cheeks tinge light pink, and she's suddenly very interested in swirling one of her fries in the ketchup cup.

"Oh you did? It didn't happen to be Dr. McCarty, did it?" She mutters something under her breath and flips me off. "I'm sure he was more than happy to oblige you, among other things."

Dr. McCarty is one of the younger doctors, early thirties maybe. He's tall, brawny, with curly brown hair and dimples. He's not my type, but Rose turns into a bit of a floozy every time he's on our floor.

A male hand swoops in this time, grabbing a handful of fries and collapsing into the seat next to mine. Jasper looks a little worse for wear then he did this morning, with a spattering of what looks like blood on the bottom corner of his scrub shirt, and a shiner on his cheek.

"Ouch, what happened to you?"

"I borrowed Rose's jock strap again." She throws a fry at him from across the table, which he catches and eats. "Nah, we had a patient start to go through DT's in the ER. I dodged the first two punches, but he managed to make contact on the third."

"I hope they assign him to Jane when he hits the Med-Surg floor. She's been whining all morning about her patient assignments, and she's only got three. Bella and I have got five each AND I've got one of Dr. D-bag's patients."

Jasper clears his throat looking around the cafeteria. "Oh, so Jane's working today? Thanks for the heads up. I'll keep away from the MS floor then."

"Stop sleeping with the god damned nurses on my floor, Jazz. It just means they bitch and whine to me about it."

The rest of my shift is fairly calm, with Mr. Banner sleeping for the rest of the afternoon, and my other patients stabilized. I discharge my patient in 26, finish my charting, and give shift report to Leah, who's coming on for the night shift. Between Witherdale and a very unstable patient in 21, Rose just waves me off and responds that she'll probably be here another hour, and she'll just meet me at Peri's across the street. I shower and change into jeans and simple black sweater that hangs just off the shoulder, trading out my dansko's for my black flats. I drop my bag into Jasper's locker so he can take it down to the car when he decides to leave.

The air is chilled when I walk outside, but Peri's is packed and warm. I sit on one of the bar stools, Seth leaning on the counter as soon as I sit down. "What kind of night is it, B? Tequila?"

"It's always a tequila night, Seth." He laughs, sliding me a shot across the counter, before leaning to someone at the other end of the bar. The liquid burns my throat and warms my esophagus, as I put the empty shot glass back on the bar top. I've known Seth since my nursing school clinicals, when Rose and I used to come here after particularly rough shifts of getting reamed as student nurses. He'd been there through most everything.

"Slow down sailor, other wise I have to take your keys."

"Luckily for me, I don't have keys, Seth. So if Jasper hasn't bailed to get laid, I'm riding with him. Otherwise, I'll slum it in a taxi."

"Kill anyone today?" He pretends to look busy arranging lemon slices and stacking glasses.

"No, thank you very much. Don't you have someone else you can bother?"

"Nah, Rose isn't here tonight." He pours me another shot, sliding it back towards me as I rest my forehead on my hand.

"Dream on, she's got her eyes on Dr. Dimples. Besides, she's too high maintenance for you."

Someone sits down on the stool next to me, as I throw back my second shot. I'm already a little tipsy, and I don't bother to look up until he speaks.

"Hi."

**Thoughts? Thank you for reading :)**


	2. Hands on Me

**Obviously I don't own either Grey's Anatomy or Twilight. If I did, I'd go to Hawaii over the holidays and buy out Trader Joes' stock of vanilla cinnamon tea. Trust me, it's that good.**

_The subway radiates with heat _

_We've barely met and still I cross the street to your door _

_We'd cross the deepest oceans _

_Cargo across the sea _

_And if you don't believe me _

_Just put your hands on me_

(Hands on Me – Vanessa Carlton)

"_Hi."_

Not to sound like a jackass, but I'm used to getting hit on in bars. Something about the usual uniform of scrubs, messy hair, and don't fuck with me face seems to make guys think they have a chance. Even if I look nicer tonight, having showered and changed and all, I'm not in the mood. I'm all set to ignore him and get my rejection line together, when I have to look his way to wave Seth down for another drink.

Whatever rejection line I may have used is gone before I could have even thought of it. Because I'm not sitting next to the usual Peri's weirdo, I'm sitting next to messy copper hair and cucumber eyes in a blue button-up. The sleeves are rolled unevenly to his elbows, showing off muscular forearms and long fingers. He's smiling crookedly, and if I didn't have standards, I'd take him right here, right now on the damn bar stool.

Thankfully for me, my standards aren't much above that.

"Hi." I mentally try to recall what underwear I'm wearing, hoping to god it somewhat matches my bra. And isn't the day of the week underwear Rose gave me as a joke one Christmas. Then I start to worry about whether I should have showered longer after work while trying to subtly sniff my arm. All I can smell is him, all peppermint and aftershave, dizzying my brain and clouding my thoughts.

"Rough day?" He gestures to the cluster of shot glasses, his own empty glass sitting in front of him.

I laugh, shrugging a shoulder. His eyes fix on the exposed skin, before dragging his gaze slowly up to mine. "Not particularly, just work. You know," I shrug again, my knee brushing against his. "Hmm, I might know a thing or two about that," he replies, signaling Seth for another round of shots.

Soon we're talking easily and laughing, the brushes of limbs becoming more intentional and the proximity closer. He starts to tell me how he's just moved out here from New York or New Jersey or New something and when he asks me where I work I place my finger to his lips. "We don't have to do this."

His hand is on my thigh as he leans in, and I'm wishing the fabric of my jeans wasn't in the way of his hand on my skin. And then my brain moves to imagining what his hands would feel like on my skin, and then how his lips would feel on my skin and I almost forget what I was going to say.

"Do what?" He flashes me that crooked smile again and I have to remind myself that it wouldn't be considered socially acceptable to jump him right here.

"This, the talking and exchanging information thing. The acting like you care what my name is and what I do for a living when honestly we both just want to do one thing." He arches an eyebrow before downing the rest of his shot, leaning in closer so his lips are just barely brushing against my ear. "We don't have to do the other stuff, but I want you to know my name so you can scream it later." I just about come undone right there. He leaves cash on the counter, holding my jacket out for me.

"It's Edward, by the way."

We walk towards the back parking lot of Peri's, and suddenly my back is flat against the wall and his hand is resting near my ear. I hook my fingers through his belt loops, pulling him closer. When he kisses me he leaves tiny sparks across my lips and down my neck, nipping gently at my collarbone.

"Bella," I manage to reply as he kisses along my jugular. "I'm Bella." His lips brush mine once more before he takes my hand, leading me towards a shiny, silver Volvo.

Somehow we make it without crashing, and soon Edward is unlocking the door to an apartment that has to be much more expensive than mine, and has me against the back of it before I can take in my surroundings. I un-tuck his shirt, running my hands up his sinewy abs, grazing his ribcage with my finger nails. He hitches one leg, then two, and suddenly I'm off the ground and being carried in the dark.

.o.o.o.

_So warm…_

There's an obnoxious beeping which awake Bella would know is her pager, but sleepy Bella is trying desperately to ignore. I reach across for what should be my nightstand, but my hand hits something warm and solid instead.

It's Rose beeping me, and I feel bad momentarily for ditching her. Then, however, I remember why I ditched her and I don't feel so bad anymore. In fact, I feel pretty good.

I'm tangled in arms, legs, and a comforter, and suddenly the whole night starts rushing back. My head hurts and I know it's late enough that I'm hung over, but thankfully still early enough that I'm not going to be late for work.

I shimmy out of his grasp and bed, and start searching the room for my clothes. I quickly pull on my underwear and retrieve my bra from the lampshade, wiggling back into my jeans and sweater. I'm just about to slip out of the room when he sits up, all sleepy eyed and bed-headed. Oh motherfuck, why does he have to be so attractive?

"Mmf, good morning to you too." He stretches his arms, rubbing those piercing green eyes, as I fight the temptation to crawl back into bed with him. "Last night was…"

"Irresponsible, humiliating, out of character, awkward, reckless… believe me, I know."

"Actually I was going to say amazing, and then I was going to pull you back into bed with me." He reaches for my hips but I smack his hands away, stepping back and crossing my arms.

"Yeah, you can't do that. I have to go. Unfortunately I have to get to work, which means I have to leave. So… yeah." He raises an eyebrow at me as he climbs out of bed, forcing me to cover my eyes. I don't know why I'm being so shy now, but something about the lack of tequila and the realization that it's the next morning does that. He pulls on low-slung sweat pants and a thread bare t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. Especially when mine seems to be wide awake and on full alert this morning.

"So… what do you do for work?" He follows me as I make my way back towards what I assume is the front door, handing me my coat.

"We don't have to do the morning after awkward small talk where we get the details and stuff." He laughs, running a hand through his messy hair and I pointedly ignore the urge to run my own fingers through it and... brain shut up now. "I'm going to go get a bottle of Gatorade and a taxi, and you're going to go back to bed like a normal person. So, it was nice to meet you… um…"

I'm sure my cheeks are bright red at this point, and he's giving me this amused smirk. Either he'd given me his name and I'd forgotten it, or we'd never exchanged that information. I wince apologetically, biting my lip.

"Edward," he laughs, offering me his hand.

"Bella," I smile, shaking it awkwardly, clutching my coat with the other.

"Bella," he repeats, and I like the sound of my name on his lips more than I should. No harm no foul, it's not like I'll ever see him again.

"Mmhm."

"Will I see you again, Bella?"

_God I hope so_, my brain cuts in. "Who knows," I grin, brushing past him as he opens the door for me. I turn back to look at him one last time over my shoulder. "Goodbye, Edward."

.o.o.o.

"Oh good, you're alive," Rose says sarcastically, as I walk in the door. Rose is giving me the once over but Jasper just gives me a high five before mussing my hair.

"I'm so proud. And now that I know you're not only safe but clearly were properly taken care of, I'm going back to bed because unlike you two, I have the day off."

I take a quick shower, humming softly as I scrub myself clean with coconut body wash. There's a part of me that hopes I'll run into Edward again, and then another part of me that hopes I don't. As amazing as it was, I've never been a one-night stand kind of girl and I'm not sure I want to become one.

Jasper must have placed my bag on my bed last night, because it's there when I return to my room. I grab my dark purple scrubs from the drawer, pulling a grey thermal long-sleeve underneath. I slip my vans on and quickly tie the laces, stuff my pockets, and pull my hair into a quick ponytail. My phone starts going off, alerting me to a phone call from Rose.

"Why are you calling me?"

"I already left because I wanted Starbucks, so you're driving yourself today. I'm getting coffee. Do you want some?"

"Is that even a real question?"

"What do you want?"

"Uh… low-fat 3-pump pumpkin spice latte?"

"Denied. Cute guy's working today and I'll sound like a jackass if I order that. I'm getting you coffee. Bye."

I meet Rose outside the hospital, gladly taking the red starbucks cup from her hand. She stuffs a scone and some splenda into my pocket, and I quickly spill the details to her from last night.

"So, let me get this straight. You have hot, amazing sex with some random guy you met in a bar and didn't even get his number? Should I run an MRI? Do you need a neuro consult?" I roll my eyes at her as I add a splenda packet to my coffee. Sure, I know that shit's awful for you but… I just like the way it tastes in my coffee. Whatever. "And you know the use of artificial sweeteners has been linked to just about every neurological condition in the book –"

"The _last_ thing I need right now is a guy in my life. And shut up. It's only one packet."

"Uh, incorrect. There's a spring in your step this morning and a freaking smile on your face… regular hot, random bar guy sex could be the best thing you ever did. Literally." Coffees in hand, we head for the nurses station to check our patient assignments, and I'm happy to see I have 32 again, along with a few new admits.

"Whatever. Miss Inappropriate-Crush-on-Hospitalists." Rose punches me in the shoulder as I make googily eyes at her.

While he's no copper haired, green eyed sexgod, I'll be the first (and most certainly not the last) to admit that leaning against the nurse's station. Dr. McCarty is all kinds of sexy. He's all dark brown curls and dimples, muscular arms and dark grey scrubs. Rose tries to act nonchalant next to me, but I know she's internally drooling. He's hot; I know this, the nurses know this, Rose knows this, and he certainly knows this because he winks in our direction.

"What a sleaze," I scoff, glancing over the chart in my hands.

"Not even. That man is straight up sex in dark blue scrubs."

"Who had sex?" Alice suddenly appears next to Rose, giving me a one-armed hug. Alice works in the ICU, but makes it a point to come visit us up in Med-Surg when she has a spare second and we're working the same days.

"Bella did with some random guy from the bar."

"Um, ew."

"Whatever, random hot guy. You know how picky our girl is, don't worry."

"Yeah, well someone has to be. What with you two throwing yourselves at the first thing you see in scrubs with a penis," I snap back. Random hot bar guy, Edward, whatever does not need to be talked about this much. Brain Bella is ready to forget it ever happened, but other Bella is all set to reminisce. And these two going on about it wasn't helping Brain Bella's case.

"Ooh, speaking of doctors I've heard there's a new one. Some hot-shot doctor from New York." Alice wiggles her eyebrows at us, all of us shoving each other as we round the corner.

"Thank god, Dr. Gerandy was getting geriatric." We split our separate ways as the hallway divides, and Alice heads to ICU with promises to try to find us around lunchtime.

I down the rest of my coffee, before I glance over my patient's for the day. 0630 am. Today was going to be a long day.

**Happy holidays everyone :) enjoy your thanksgivings and be careful in the kitchen! I try to stay out of it as a general rule because something always happens that requires ice or steri-strips but thankfully there are people in the world who aren't like that. They're the ones cooking the Thanksgiving dinner, thankfully.**


	3. Goodnight and Go

**I own a fluffy cat, a beat up pair of Uggs, and an iPhone with a severely cracked screen. I don't own Grey's Anatomy or Twilight, unfortunately.**

_Skipping beats, blushing cheeks I am struggling_

_Daydreaming, bed scenes in the corner café_

_And then I'm left in bits recovering tectonic tremblings_

_You get me every time_

_Why d'ya have to be so cute?_

_It's impossible to ignore you_

_Must you make me laugh so much_

_It's bad enough we get along so well_

_Say goodnight and go_

(Goodnight and Go – Imogen Heap)

Occasionally, we get kids in Med-Surg. It doesn't happen often, but if their case is rare enough, or requires a lot of skilled interventions, they get sent to us. I barely have a second to look over the night shifts notes before the parents are on me with questions.

"Is she going to be okay?

"What happened? I don't understand how she could go from being perfectly healthy to a hospital bed..."

"Do you have any idea what caused this? Was there something we could have done? There's heart disease on my great-grandmother's side of the family, I don't know if that would influence…"

They continue to fire questions at me as I try to look over the chart. Their daughter, Bree Tanner is being hospitalized for a severe headache, high fever, nausea and vomiting, with a potential diagnosis of blood sepsis. She's already being given I.V. antibiotics while the lab waits for the results of her microbiology draw, but the hospitalist hasn't been in to see her yet this morning.

"…and you know I was talking to a friend who has an aunt that has a friend that had something similar and she ended up having to have surgery…"

"Oh my god, is my baby going to have surgery?"

I take a deep breath, waiting for them to finish their tirade of questions. With younger patient's, dealing with parents is just as much a part of the job as dealing with the actual patient. And as annoying as they can be, it helps to remember that they're just scared. I would be if it was my kid. If I even have kids.

The thing is though, is it's not even seven in the morning and I haven't had enough coffee yet to be ready for the onslaught. "Mr. and Mrs. Tanner, why don't you take a deep breath. I can assure you that Bree is in excellent hands, and that we are working around the clock to ensure that she is getting the best care for her condition as possible."

Mrs. Tanner takes a breath and sinks down into one of the chairs, her husband placing his hand on her shoulder. "I'll go grab Dr. McCarty, and he can answer all of your questions regarding any results we've received back from the lab and her diagnosis, okay?"

Dr. McCarty proves relatively easy to find, having just finished a consult with a patient down the hall.

"Excuse me, sir?" He barely nods his head, not looking up from the EMR in front of him as he types furiously "The Tanner's in 28 have questions – "

"Not my patient anymore, Swan. Talk to Cullen, the new doctor, he's over there." He points across the hall where a group of doctors are conferring and I nearly choke on my coffee as my eyes fall on the one in the center with the messy copper hair. If I thought he was hot last night, it's got nothing on dark blue scrubs.

Oh, and did I mention I'm also royally fucked, because he's also my new co-worker, and kind of my boss?

Yeah. There's that.

"I need to… go to the bathroom." McCarty looks at me strangely for a moment before shrugging and going back to his doctor's notes.

If I slip out now there's a chance he hasn't seen me, although that wouldn't really get me anywhere with my patient and it would certainly raise questions from Dr. McCarty. Edward, or Dr. Cullen as I should call him, glances up and does a double-take when his eyes fall on me. His eyebrows raise and I do the only logical thing. I turn on my heels and head in the opposite direction.

Of course this would just be my luck – I sleep with some random, attractive guy in a bar and he just happens to be the new physician at the hospital I work at. The new freaking doctor I have to take orders from and work with, for Christ sake. Nice going, Bella. Alice and Rose are going to have a field day with this, and it's off putting enough that I'm heavily considering avoiding telling them altogether. Although for that to work I'd have to learn how to act normal around him, and make sure he doesn't say anything.

A hand wraps around my upper arm and before I know what's happening I'm being tugged into one of the supply closets, the light flickering on automatically as the door shuts.

"Dr. Cullen, is this how you treat all of your co-workers? Pushing them into closets?" The space is cramped, and a dynamap pokes uncomfortably into my side as we stand between the stocked shelving units.

"I try to only make it a habit just with the ones I've slept with." He gives me his crooked grin and I think my heart just about skips a beat. It's pathetic. "And Dr. Cullen? Last night it was Edward. In fact, I'm pretty sure you – "

"Last night was a mistake, we should just pretend it never happened," I say firmly, trying to step back to put a little more distance between us. He smells too good to stand so close. Unfortunately, I'm now up against the wall, so when he steps closer I have nowhere else to go.

"Pretend what never happened? You sleeping with me, or you all but running out of my apartment at three-thirty this morning? Because both are memories I hold dear." He's grinning like this is hilarious, when it's not at all. Sure, as a doctor he'd get a pat on the back for sleeping with one of the nurses. I'd get hell.

"No! No memories. This isn't Bella from the bar, this is work Bella. Nurse Bella. And you're not Edward from the bar, you're Dr. freaking Cullen. There is no this," I continue, pointing between the two of us.

"Nurse Bella? I like that, it has a nice ring to it –"

"This can't exist. Do you get it?"

"So, you're saying you took advantage of me." He gives me this mock hurt expression and takes another step closer.

"I did not!"

"You did. I was drunk, alone, and good looking and you took advantage." The fact that I just rolled my eyes at a doctor doesn't escape me, but I did. Which is why this could never, ever work. In a million years.

"Oh please. You weren't even that drunk, _I_ was drunk, and you're really not _that_ good looking." It's a blatant lie and he doesn't seem to be falling for it.

"That's not what you said last night. I believe your words were 'You're very handsome and if we don't leave, I'm going to take you on the bar stool,' or something to that effect."

"Couldn't have said that because last night didn't happen." I straighten out a container of 2x2's in an attempt to ignore him and look away from his face.

"Oh it did happen. More than once. Four times, if we're being exact." I reach out to smack his arm, but he grabs my wrist, pressing it against the wall above my head. "How about you take advantage again? Tomorrow night?"

It takes me a moment to regain composure and think with my brain. Only my brain seems to understand that this would be a very, very bad idea. The rest of me believes this to be a very, very good idea.

"No?" although even I can tell that I don't sound very convinced.

"Why?" He's staring right at me with those bright green eyes, and it's making this even harder.

"Because you're my doctor and I'm your nurse, and this is not going to happen." He continues to stare at me, smirking. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"Looking at you like what?" he challenges.

"Like you've seen me naked." He just grins and moves his other hand to my hip, brushing his fingers along the waistband of my scrub pants.

"Oh, but I have seen you naked… _Nurse_ Bella." He says it teasingly, and I smack his hand away quickly before I do something stupid.

"Dr. Cullen, this is completely inappropriate and unprofessional." With much self-restraint and the logical part of my brain winning out, I pull my arm out of his grip and push past him.

"Oh, and the Tanners' in 28 have questions for you about their daughters surgery." I close the door behind me, and leave him standing in the supply closet, wondering how the hell I'm going to get through this day.

"Mr. Banner," I call out, pulling my arms through the sleeves of the transparent yellow gown. It's flimsy and obnoxious, but I appreciate its attempts at preventing me from contracting MRSA.

"Oh no, it's the sarcastic one again," he shoots back, pretending to hide behind his pillow.

"I know. I keep begging them to give me a different patient, but they just won't listen to me."

"Well, luckily for you doll, I'm busting the hell out of dodge. They're sending me to some old people home where I can scoot around the halls in my walker and find me an elegant dame."

"Oh really? And what about that giant wound on your stomach, hmm?" I pull up his EMR, glancing over the discharge notes. I'll be sad to see him go, but I'm happy he's able to get out of the hospital.

"Don't you know? It's a total hit with the ladies." He waggles his eyebrows at me, pushing himself up in bed. "Doc said they can have a wound care nurse come visit me at the old people's place twice a week to poke at it. Hey, it won't be you will it?"

He's going to need a pneumovacc and a flu vacc before discharge, which means two IM injections, two sore arms, and a patient that won't be thrilled with me.

"Unfortunately for you, nope. But before I can let you out of here you have to sign a lot of things, listen to me tell you how you need to properly manage your diabetes and quit smoking, and I have to give you two shots."

"Save your breath, doll. I've been smoking for 72 years and I don't plan to stop now."

"Fine, but for the record I told you smoking is just making everything worse, and you really should quit. I'll be back with your injections and discharge papers soon. If you don't remember where the call button is by now, I'm putting you through a full neurological assessment!"

I head for the medication room when suddenly I'm tugged by the arm and cornered between the wall and Dr. Sexgod who I really need to stop calling Dr. Sexgod. Hello completely unprofessional and inappropriate.

"Can I help you Dr… Cullen?" I ask with what I hope comes of as mild annoyance, straightening the front of my scrub top.

"Is that how you speak to all of your patient's Miss…" his eyes linger near my name badge for a few beats too long, and he smirks as I cross my arms over my chest. "Swan?"

"Just the ones I've had for two weeks and have that kind of relationship with, _Sir_," I reply, adding a tinge of condescension on the end. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do, and you're blocking my path." I duck under his arms, quickly punching my code into the med room door. The raised eyebrow Shelly gives me from across the nurses station doesn't go unnoticed.

.o.o.o.

_Rapid response, room 28. Rapid response, room 28. Rapid response…_

Lunch is interrupted, and I'm grateful Rose and I chose to eat in one of the empty patient rooms instead of the cafeteria. I drop my bag of grapes, leaving Rose to clean up and run as fast as my scuffed baby blue vans will take me to room 28.

"What the hell happened?" Dr. McCarty is in there, along with several other physicians, nurses, and other members of the health care team.

"She started having multiple tonic-clonic seizures," McCarty yells as I run to her side to try to stabilize her.

"Someone get the parents out!" One of the other physicians yells, as Jane quickly ushers a terrified looking Mr. and Mrs. Tanner out of the room. I turn Bree onto her right side and tilt her head down to allow the saliva to drain away and clear her airway, while someone else stuffs a pillow under her head.

"Push Lorazepam Swan, 2 mg."

"Did someone page Dr. Cullen?" I yell, giving her the second dose of Lorazepam. She's at 4 mgs now, and still no response.

"Yes, but obviously you can see he's not here yet," Dr. Witherdale snaps back. "Load her with phenobarbital, Swan. Let's go, sometime today please."

I give the IV push, inwardly cursing Dr. Witherdale and the day he was born. Sure, rapid response situations are stressful, but there's no reason to be a complete dick. "Pheno is in, no change in response." The heart monitor flat lines and the crash cart is dragged over as I turn her flat on her back.

"V-fib!" a voice shouts, as another overlaps with "Code blue, code blue!"

"Charge to 300," McCarty shouts, taking the paddles. "Clear!" I pull my hands back, eyes fixed on the cardiac monitor.

"Still V-fib, no response," I shout back. He charges the paddles again. "Clear!"

We wait with bated breath, and thankfully the heart monitor starts to beep. "Sinus rhythm!" McCarty calls, setting down the paddles and wiping his forehead. "Pressure's returning…"

At this moment, Dr. Cullen chooses to run into the room, stethoscope swinging violently around his neck. "What the hell happened?"

"She had a seizure and her heart stopped –"

"Seizure? You were supposed to be monitoring her, Swan!" The room starts to clear now that the code has resolved, leaving me with a very irate looking Dr. Cullen.

"I was! I've been checking on her every hour –"

"You know what, just go. I've got this, okay? Go mess around with your patient in 32 or do whatever the hell you were doing while you should have been monitoring my patient."

I storm out of the room and nearly crash into Rose, her face half-shocked half-pissed off.

"Who pissed in his tennis shoes…" she murmurs, squeezing my shoulder.

"Don't… don't do the squeezy arm, nurturing thing to me, okay? Cause I'll start crying and I really don't want to cry right now."

Rose nods, shoving me towards Shelly instead. Thank god my best friend gets me so well.

"Shelly, I need to talk to you about Dr. Cullen. He's blaming my patient's seizure on ME despite the fact that I did constant neuro checks, and it was a freak accident..."

"Swan, untwist your panties and calm the hell down. I already heard his interaction with you and I reported it. So don't come in here barking at me about what I should do and not do, alright?"

I nod, taking a deep breath. She pushes her leopard print readers up on her nose, glancing at the telemetry monitors. "Why are you still standing here?"

"I want to be reassigned. I'm can't work with him."

She arches an eyebrow, looking at me with no sympathy. "To hell you can't. You're going to march right back into that room after I've had a word with him, and carry on giving excellent patient care. No doctor gets to break you, Swan. Now go away, I have things to do."

I think I'd take five of Witherdale's patients over one of Dr. Jackass' any day.


	4. Riding in Elevators

**Still don't own Grey's Anatomy or Twilight. But I did put up my Christmas tree today so cheers to a sense of accomplishment.**

_I'm looking down always on every floor_

_But I never really find what I'm looking for_

_But I keep looking for you_

_Doors are opening, doors are closing_

_People come and go, but I'm still riding elevators_

(Riding Elevators – Mads Langer)

"Oh no he did not," Rose replies, picking a a cherry tomato out of the salad.

"Oh he did. And then Shelly chewed him out for 15 minutes in the nurse's station and I successfully avoided him for the rest of the shift."

Jasper comes in through the front door, looking tired and irritated, raising an eyebrow at me from across the room. "Girl, you be gettin' in all kinds of trouble yesterday."

"Yesterday sucked. In fact, yesterday was just straight up, royal suckage." Rose and I had the day off today, a day in which we spent sleeping, painting our toenails, and watching all the back episodes of Hart of Dixie and New Girl we had accumulated on the DVR. A highly productive day, in our opinions.

"Yeah well, it was all anyone could talk about today. Dr. Cullen chewing out Bella Swan on his first day there…" He reaches above me and grabs a box of crackers down from the cabinet, making quick work of the plastic sleeve.

"That's not all he did to her," Rose quips, earning a steady blow to the back of the head from yours truly. "Well it's true! Isn't he the guy from the bar? Alice said the sexual tension between you guys was out of control, and he looks just like the guy you described."

Jasper nearly chokes on a cracker, looking at me with wide eyes. "Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with my roommate Bella?"

I have the next day off too, and I finally manage to get some productive things done around the house. I vacuum, I mop, I rearrange all the furniture in my bedroom only to put it all back exactly where it was in the first place. I run off nervous energy the whole day and dread work the next morning.

Sleep doesn't come quickly that night, but my alarm clock does, reminding me that it's time to get up for work. I drag myself slowly, taking the longest shower I can before Rose is banging on the door for me to "get the fuck out." Charming girl.

Much sooner than I want, we're walking through the hospital doors, coffee cups in hand. I take a deep breath, deciding I'm not going to let Dr. Jackass and his amazing hands ruin my day.

The first thing I notice when I walk in is that Dr. Jackass is nowhere to be seen at the moment. I'm only a little disappointed. The second thing I notice is that my patient from 32 is back and now in room 26 and I'm assigned to him again. My patient from 28 with the code two days ago has been discharged. I make a mental note to look up what precipitated her discharge, and what caused her seizures. First though, I stick my head into 26.

"I'd tell you I'm excited to see you, but I'm kinda bummed you're back in the hospital, sir."

He shrugs, shoveling a bite of eggs into his mouth. "The food here's much better. They put me on some low fat diabetes crap over there. I told them I was dying anyway, but they said they didn't want to speed up the process."

"Well, not today you aren't. I'll personally make sure of it."

"Is that a promise, doll?"

"It's the closest to a promise I can make, Mr. Banner." He squeezes my hand, and then focuses very intently on his fruit bowl. I don't say anything about the tears pooling in the corners of his pale blue eyes because I know they're in mine as well.

I pop over to 31 to begin my assessments for the morning, noting that my patient has soft crackles in the left lower lobe of her lung. I remind her about the importance of coughing and deep breathing, and how not ambulating puts her at risk for developing pneumonia. I show her how to use the incentive spirometer, and let her know I'll be back within the hour to bring her lovenox injection and listen to her lungs again.

When I finally get a chance to hide in an empty patient room with a computer, I search Bree Tanner in the system, pulling up her chart. Following her progress the days I was gone, I see that she was diagnosed with bacterial meningitis and transferred to a peds unit for IV antibiotic administration. Now her symptoms and her seizures make perfect sense, and there really wasn't anything I could have done to prevent it.

The sound of someone clearing his throat behind me makes me jump, and I turn around to see Dr. Cullen standing in the doorway, a hesitant look on his face. Shelly must have really done a number on him – she does have quite the reputation for knocking doctors down a peg or five.

"Do you have a moment? I'd like it speak with you if you don't mind."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest and raising an eyebrow at him. "I don't know, Dr. Cullen. The last time we talked it didn't go so well." He raises his hands in defense, a genuinely guilty look on his all too perfect face. I wave my hand towards the other chair in the room, giving him permission to sit. He stays standing in the doorway anyway. Shelly must have really done a number on him.

"It was unfair and incredibly rude for me to take that situation out on you and speak to you in the manner that I did. There was no way you could have anticipated her having a seizure, and you were doing your job perfectly." I nod, resisting the urge to interrupt with a snarky comment or two. He seems genuinely apologetic, and there's no need for me to ruin that. "She had meningitis, which resulted in the seizures. It was my first day here, not that that's any excuse. I was stressed and took it out on you. So again, I'm sorry."

I nod my head, and give him a smile. "Apology accepted, Dr. Cullen." I offer him my hand as an olive-branch gesture or whatever, and his fingers wrap around mine, holding on for longer than would be deemed appropriate.

Currently, my brain seems to be malfunctioning, however, and brainless Bella doesn't seem to mind. In fact, brainless Bella is staring at Dr. Cullen in what can only be accurately described as "googly eyes" and giving up all her careful restraint of the past few days.

"It's Edward. Really, you don't have to call me Dr. Cullen."

"It helps me to keep the work boundary," I reply, letting go of his hand. Apparently the brain is back.

"We'll see about that."

I don't see Dr. Cullen… Edward… no, Dr. Cullen again for several hours. It's refreshing and disappointing simultaneously, leaving me confused and irritated at myself for even giving it any thought.

"Hey, Maggie," I call through the pharmacy window, leaning on the counter. A small redhead appears from behind the rows of shelves, adjusting her glasses on her nose.

"Hey Bella, what's up?"

"My patient in 35D is going home, and I wanted to see if you could track down her personal meds she brought into the hospital with her."

"You could have just called," she laughs, rummaging through the shelves.

"I know, but it was slow and I needed something to do. Shocking, right?"

"Absolutely. I wish I had that problem." She walks back over with a plastic bag, glancing at the orange prescription bottles inside. "This should be everything. Let me know if you have any problems."

Because there is no God, Dr. Cullen is in the elevator, and I have too much pride to chicken out and take the stairs. Instead, I take a deep breath and stand on the opposite wall with my arms crossed over my chest.

After what feels like an hour of trying to not look at him, I finally speak to him. "I'm not going out with you."

"Did I ask you to go out with me?" I roll my eyes, as he smirks at me from across the elevator.

"Do you want to go out with me?"

"I'm not dating you. And I'm definitely not sleeping with you again. You're my boss."

"No I'm not, we're completely different departments. And if anything, you're the bossy one."

I go back to ignoring him, focusing my attention on the elevator buttons instead and make a mental note to take the stairs from now on. His green eyes continue to bore into my scapulae, making it hard to focus on anything else but him. And the memory of how his hands felt on my skin, and his lips on my neck… shut up brain.

"You're sexually harassing me." There, that should put a stop to it.

He snorts. "I'm riding an elevator."

I glance at the buttons and realize he'd pressed the one for the ninth floor, and I'd never pressed the button for five assuming that he was going to the same place. Irritated at myself, I hit the five and glare at him. The elevator doors open, and he stays put.

"Aren't you getting off?" He just leans against the wall across from me, looking amused.

"Oh did I press nine? I meant five. My mistake."

_Don't look at him, don't look at him, _don't_ look at him._ The longer we spend enclosed in this elevator, the more my self-control starts to wane. His smell is dizzying, and it's hard to think with him so close.

"Look, I'm drawing a line, okay? A boundary line. A big, uncrossable doctor-proof line." I don't sound nearly as convinced as I'd like to have, and he picks up on it. He glances at me, musing over what I had said with a smug look on his stupid-attractive face.

"So this line… is it imaginary?" He turns towards me, and starts to walk closer. "Or do I need to lend you a sharpie?"

With him standing over me, my self-control is a thing of the past. I drop the medicine bag, prescription bottles bouncing every which way and lean into him. Clutching his lab coat between my fingers, I push him back against the elevator wall. Lips press to lips as his hands thread through my hair, setting my cells on fire.

It's like I'd forgotten how good kissing Edward… Dr. Cullen was. He tugs at the bottom of my lip and then his tongue is in my mouth, stopping me from being able to think altogether. One hand slides from my hair to grip my back, pulling me roughly against him. Warm fingers slip underneath my shirt and press against my bare skin. The elevator dings and I pull away, attempting to straighten out my messy hair. He licks his lips, adjusting his collar and grinning as the door opens to several doctors in lab coats. I quickly gather the prescription bottles back into the bag and get out of the elevator as fast as I can.

"Nice talking to you, Bella," he calls out from behind me, as I sprint towards the nurses station.

With flushed cheeks and an erratic pulse I grab a pamphlet on smoking cessation and try to take a deep breath before heading into room 35D for discharge teaching.

When the shift is over, I bypass the elevators and head straight for the stairwell.

.o.o.o.

Alice, Rose, and I all have the following day off so we decide to celebrate appropriately with girls night and plenty of margaritas. Alice is a ball of energy as she speeds through the kitchen in hot pink leggings, tossing ice, a lot of tequila, and a little margarita mix into the blender while Rose sits on the counter and dunks Tostitos in guacamole and talks about her latest guy.

"So anyway, I went on a date with Tyler from radiology…"

"I kissed Edward," I blurt out, unable to keep it from them any longer. The blender stops and Rose pauses mid-crunch, swallowing before turning to face me.

"You kissed Edward," she repeats.

"In the elevator."

"In the elevator?" Alice chimes in, placing her hands on her hips. For someone so small, she's capable of looking incredibly threatening.

"It was an accident…?" I try, earning stern looks from both of them. "I was telling him that I was setting limits and drawing a line… and then he was just there and it just happened."

Rose snorts and Alice giggles, and soon the ridiculousness of it all is too much and we're all laughing. "Well that should get the message across," Rose deadpans, creating a new round of giggles.

"Are you going to go out with him?" Alice has that twinkling, meddling look that she's so famous for in her eyes as she hands us our margaritas. I'll have to nip that in the bud right away.

"No. Definitely not." They both look at me like I'm full of shit, so I give a little. "I haven't decided yet."

"What's there to decide? He's fuck hot," Rose replies, as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. She jumped sides awfully fast. Floozy. "Nice mix to tequila ratio by the way." Alice and Rose clink their glasses, looking at me expectantly.

"It's complicated! And we work together and…"

The front door opens, and I hear the distinct sound of shoes being kicked off and keys dropping onto the entryway table.

"I swear if one more asshole DTing swings at me –" Jasper whines, nearly crashing into Alice as he walks around the corner into the kitchen.

Alice and Jasper both stop in their tracks, looking at each other. Rosalie groans but we all ignore her. It's Alice, not some hospital floozy, and Jasper doesn't seem to know what hit him. They continue to look at each other until Jasper finally sticks out his hand.

"I'm Jasper."

"I know. I'm Alice."

"Do you want to… go for a walk?" Rose pretends to bang her head against my shoulder and I shove her gently.

She nods and he smiles, and suddenly I feel like I'm intruding on a very private moment.

"Let me just change," he motions to his blood splattered scrub top. "I'll be right back." He walks towards his room, glancing back as if he was afraid she might have left. When he disappears around the corner, Rose throws a chip at Alice's head.

"I'm going to warn you, my brother is a royal jackass when it comes to women. Ask half the hospital," she scolds as Alice pulls her sweatshirt over her head.

She downs the last of her margarita and grins. "We're going to get married one day. He just doesn't know it yet."

And because if anyone could do it Alice could, I believe her.

They leave together, Jasper still wearing that strange, loopy expression and Rose fills our margarita glasses.

"Let's drink. I give it a week."

"I'll hold you to it. I think it's the real deal."

She rolls her eyes and flicks me on the back of the head. "Maybe you're right about a Dr. Cullen ban. It's turning you into a sap."


	5. One Week of Danger

**I still don't own either Grey's Anatomy or Twilight. It's not for lack of trying, though.**

_Come on baby, we get along_

_One week of danger_

_Is not very long_

_Let's get together, and get it on_

_Let's get those clothes off_

_Before I'm gone_

[One Week of Danger – The Virgins]

Avoidance never works.

In fact, the more you try to avoid something it just seems to pop up more. Or someone. Especially when it's someone.

"Hello." Dr. Cullen steps out of a patient room and right in front of me, blocking my path. His black littman is hanging around his neck and his hair is in its usual state of disarray. Add a labcoat and grey scrubs and I just about forget my first name.

"Dr. Cullen," I reply, smiling. I head for my patient room down the hall and he continues to walk alongside me. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I'm doing my rounds. Looks like we're headed the same direction." Of course we are.

He knocks briskly on the door beside my patient's room before stepping into the room winking at me as he goes.

Meanwhile, I pull on an isolation gown and gloves, and step into a room that's becoming incredibly familiar to me.

"I lived to see another day, no thanks to you. Are you trying to kill me with this stuff?" He gestures with his fork to the soggy pancakes in front of him.

"Trust me, you wouldn't be saying that if you'd had my cooking, Mr. Banner. Then you'd really think I was trying to kill you."

I erase yesterdays date and fill in the information for today on the whiteboard, making sure to write my name in big, loopy letters with a smiley face next to the spot for RN. After tidying up a few things on his bedroom table, I leave him to his breakfast, walking out of the room and straight into Dr. Cullen. X-ray comes around the corner with a huge portable chest x-ray machine, and he places his hand on my lower back to guide me out of the way as they pass. My skin glows hot where his hand touches me through my purple scrubs, and his hand remains there long after x-ray has passed.

"So," he removes his arm and leans against the wall next to me, arms crossed. "We're kissing but we're not dating?"

I sigh, fiddling with the sleeve of my thermal. "I knew that would come up."

"Don't get me wrong," he continues, "I like the kissing. I'm all for the kissing. In fact, in my opinion there really hasn't been enough kissing."

"I have no idea what that was about," I offer, trying to remember my work boundaries rule and why it seemed like such a good idea at the time.

"Is it going to happen again? I just want to be prepared." His eyes gleam as he nudges my side. "I'll have to start carrying mints in my pocket. Invest in some chapstick. Maybe even stick a condom into my wallet."

I push his shoulder gently and roll my eyes. "Shut up. I have work to do." I walk off hot and bothered towards the nurses station, leaving him and his sexy hair at the end of the hallway.

"You're awfully smiley today. Been riding the elevators again?" Rose waggles her eyebrows at me as I drop into the computer chair beside her.

"No actually, I've started taking the stairs more. You know, exercise and all that."

"I'm sure. Hey, what's another word for swollen? I feel like my charting is getting redundant."

"I don't know. Edematous? Distended? Engorged?"

"You don't actually expect me to write 'engorged,' do you?"

We giggle softly as we type, ignoring Shelly's irritated look in our direction.

"Hello Mrs. Hirsch, how's your pain?"

She winces as she pushes herself up in bed. "Not too bad… "

"From zero to ten?"

"Two." I arch an eyebrow and she smiles shyly. "Okay, maybe a six."

"Can you describe it for me?" She winces again, clutching her right side.

"Sharp, like a stabbing pain. Right here." She points to her lower right quadrant, wincing again. I place the back of my hand against her forehead, her skin hot to the touch. I grab the digital thermometer off the wall and take her temperature to confirm; 101.2.

"Have you had any nausea or–" she leans forward and retches, vomiting on the front of my scrub top. "…vomiting…"

She looks sheepish and I do my absolute best to keep my nurse face on as I place a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to get your doctor, Mrs. Hirsch. I'll be right back. Please hit the red call button if you need anything."

"Hey Lauren," I call, grabbing the attention of one of the CNA's. "Are you in the middle of something? Mrs. Hirsch in 33D needs an emesis basin and someone with her while I call her doctor." She eyes my shirt warily but heads for the supply room, leaving me to go change.

"Shelly, can you page Dr. McCarty? I think my patient in 33 has appendicitis." She starts to make a smart comment about why I can't do it myself, but takes a look at my shirt and stops.

"Symptoms?"

"Sharp, lower right abdominal pain, fever of 101.2, nausea, obviously vomiting…" she nods and dismisses me with a brush of her hand.

"Anything else I need to tell him?" I shake my head no. "Okay. Go clean up."

I duck into the clean utility room, and pull my scrub top over my head, my thermal pulling up with it to reveal my turquoise bra. Before I have time to pull it back down, someone clears his throat.

My cheeks are red as I scramble to pull down my shirt. Jake, the respiratory therapist, is leaning against the ice machine.

"Wow, clearly I haven't been spending enough time on this floor. Looking good, Bella." He slips out with a wink, leaving me to recover and feel mortified as he goes. Shaking my head, I glance up, catching Dr. Cullen's face outside the window. He opens the door, crossing his arms and looking offended.

I smile, busying myself with the coffee maker. "What do you want?"

"You take off your clothes in front of RT's now?"

"What are you, jealous?"

"I don't get jealous," he replies, closing the door behind him. I look up from my coffee and frown, crossing my arms over my chest.

"We had sex. Once."

"Four times."

"One night."

"Four times in one night."

"Whatever."

"And we kissed in an elevator," he adds in a mock tone.

"Fine, we kissed in an elevator! Once." I throw my hands up in exasperation, trying to make the point that he should just drop it and let me get back to work.

"Seriously, Bella." The traces of laughter from earlier are gone, replaced with a much more serious expression. "Go out with me."

"No."

"Go out with me."

"No."

"You know, I could die today. People die everyday. And how would you feel then? Knowing you missed your chance to go out with me. I just couldn't do that to you."

"Get over yourself."

"Come on!" If anything, he's persistent. I'll give him credit for that, at least. But it's not enough to convince me to risk my reputation, credibility, and job.

"What's the point? You just like the chase. It's exciting for you the wanting something you can't have thing."

"Well. It's fun, isn't it?" By some small miracle, I'm able to resist his self-restraint-melting crooked smile.

"See, that's the problem – it's a game to you. Which is all fine and whatever, but this is my job, and I worked my ass off to get here so I'm not planning to mess it up." I push past him, closing the door and leaving a confused looking Dr. Cullen behind in the clean utility room.

I grab a plastic bag from the supply room and shove my scrub top in it, dropping it in my locker. I run back to 33, joining Dr. McCarty and the ultrasound tech in the room. Mrs. Hirsch winces as the tech pushes the ultrasound slightly on her abdomen, and McCarty points to the screen. "Looks like acute appendicitis. I'll call OR for an appi and we'll get you fixed up in no time, Mrs. Hirsch. Good catch, Swan, looks like we caught it on the brink of rupturing."

"Thank you sir." Lauren dives for the emesis basin as Mrs. Hirsch leans forward, making it just in time.

Within the hour, transport comes up to wheel her bed to OR, leaving me with four patients for the time being.

"For god sake, you lot go on about the importance of sleep and then you're in here waking me up every five minutes. What's a guy gotta do to get some sleep around here?"

"Get better," I reply, placing my stethoscope on Mr. Banner's back. "Remember that incentive spirometer I gave you?"

"What, that weird looking plastic thing?"

"Yeah, believe it or not it's not just for decorative purposes. You're supposed to be using it at least 10 times an hour. It will help to keep your lungs clear."

I listen to the bases again, noting slightly diminished breath sounds bilaterally.

"Look, just make me a deal. Every time there's a commercial break use it. The last thing you need is pneumonia."

"Fine, but can I get some pudding?"

"Sure." He looks surprised. "Only the finest hospital sugar-free pudding in the hospital there is."

"Should have known. Alright, I suppose it won't kill me."

The rest of my shift passes without incident. Mrs. Hirsch returns from the PACU around 5, sleepy and grateful. Mr. Banner makes a point to hit the call button every time he uses his incentive spirometer, and I pretend to be irritated to keep up the game even though I'm not. Even gowning up every time I have to do so doesn't bring me down. He's starting to really grow on me, after having him as a patient for so long.

When I go to retrieve my soiled scrub top from the employee lounge at the end of my shift, Dr. Cullen is in there microwaving his coffee. He's traded in his scrubs for a blue button down shirt and a black sweater, the sleeves rolled messily to his elbows and the shirttails hanging out of the bottom. He runs his hand through his already messy hair, and I give him a wary smile.

"It's not the chase you know." He's smiling at me, but the effect is soft, completely different from the smug looks I'm used to.

"What?" I feel like I'm treading on eggshells, wanting to trust him and afraid to at the same time.

"You and me. It's not the about the thrill of the chase or playing a game." He sets down his coffee and walks closer, maintaining a respectable distance. "It's you. I'm drawn to you."

"To me…"

"Yeah. The way you cling on to me with your tiny hands. Your eyes, the tiny flecks of gold in your irises. Your hair."

"My hair?" I step closer to him this time, smiling and teetering closer towards trust over fear.

"It smells good. Like strawberries, and sun, and you." He reaches forward and dusts the pad of his thumb across my cheekbone, the gesture tender and warm. "You're bossy. Very bossy. You keep me in line." My favorite crooked grin splits his lips, eyes bright as he looks down at me.

What do I like about Edward? His hair, the way it sticks out every which way and seems completely unmanageable. His long fingers and muscular arms, crooked smiles and apple green eyes. His persistence, his audacity, the fact that underneath the cocky demeanor he's genuinely a good person. The fact that he's a good doctor, has a good bedside manner, and cares about his patients. Am I about to tell him all of this?

Not in a million years.

"I'm still not going out with you."

He straightens up and smiles, placing his hands in his pockets. "You say that now. I'll wear you down eventually." He slips out of the employee lounge, leaving me flushed and warm for the second time today, although for a completely different reason than earlier. My heart flutters and blood vessels constrict, leaving me light-headed and airy.

I hope he keeps that promise.

Rose picks up pizza on the way home, and the three of us huddle around the counter eating it out of the box.

"Oh hey, Jasper. Remember that lady who came into the ER yesterday with dehydration and abdominal tenderness?" He nods, mouth full of mushroom and olive pizza.

"I figured it out. Appendicitis."

"How'd you figure it out?"

"Lower right quadrant abdominal pain, fever, and vomit all over my shirt."

"Wow that's rare in someone her age. Makes sense though, cause older people take longer to present with the symptoms."

"Yup. Ultrasound confirmed it, and McCarty sent her down for an emergency appy because she was about to rupture."

He laughs, bumping his fist into mine. "How much do you wish you were back in school and could have observed in the OR?"

I shrug, dipping my crust in the small bowl of ranch. "Eh, it was laparoscopic. Not much to see. Now the craniotomy I saw in nursing school…"

"Oh yeah? I see your craniotomy and I raise you an aortic valve replacement."

"Organ transplant."

"Thoracostomy."

"Bilateral total knee replacements."

"CABG."

"Shut up," Rose laughs, throwing her pizza crust at Jasper as she grabs her phone and disappears into her room. He catches it and eats it, shrugging a shoulder.

"So you and Alice."

"Me and Alice."

"Don't fuck it up, okay?"

He gives me a genuinely serious look and sets down his pizza. "I'm going to try really hard not to."

For now, it's enough. We carry the pizza box and beers to the coffee table and fall down onto the couch to watch old ER re-runs while Jasper gives a running commentary about everything he thinks is wrong with their depiction. We fall asleep, and sometime around three I untangle myself from the couch cushions and stumble to my own bed, grateful for a day off.

**Thank you for reading, following, favouriting, reviewing… you guys are the best :) **


	6. Breakfast in Bed

**I don't own Greys or Twilight. It's not for lack of trying, though.**

_How I want you, give me just an hour._

_You seem like an angel._

_No one compares to you._

_You're the best book I ever read._

_You're the smartest thing I ever said._

_You're breakfast in bed._

(Breakfast in Bed – Train)

Showers are like a secret place for fantasizing.

And at 4:30 am, it seems like fantasizing about a certain doctor I shouldn't be fantasizing about makes showers that much more interesting. 

I'm halfway through shampooing my hair when the bathroom door opens to reveal a half-naked man with wavy blonde hair that is NOT the one I was fantasizing about. I peek out of the frosted glass door, shampoo dripping down my face as he waves.

"What the hell are you doing!? I'm showering!" He shrugs, rummaging in the medicine cabinet for something.

"Relax, it's not like I haven't seen it all before."

"To hell you have! I don't care how many naked women you've seen, you haven't seen me naked and I plan to keep it that way."

"You need to get laid," he yells over the streaming water.

"You need to get out before I intubate you with my razor!"

He puts his hands up in defense, and grabs a toothbrush, heading out of the room. As he leaves, the flash of pink in his hand catches my eye.

"That's my toothbrush asshole!" He leaves the door ajar just to spite me.

"I hate Shelly," Rose greets me, dropping a copy of people magazine back onto the table in the hospital lobby.

"I hate your brother," I reply, taking a bite of my chewy bar.

"Join the club. Shelly better assign me better patients today. Yesterday I had two guys with colostomy's who required Qhour dressing changes and had more ostomy output than should be allowed."

"He walked in on me showering and used my toothbrush."

She mimes sticking her finger down her throat, then breaks off the end of my bar and eats it.

"Gross. You better get a new one or you'll probably catch a disease. It's Alice's fault."

"What's my fault?" Alice bounces up beside us, grinning like an idiot. Rose points her finger at Alice's chest, looking surprisingly intimidating.

"Jasper's been acting more like an idiot than usual since you two started dating. I'm holding you completely accountable."

She just smiles and shrugs. "I have no idea what you're talking about." Rose looks like she's about to strangle her with the string of her hot pink mock-wrap top. Alice just waves and heads off towards ICU with a bounce in her step.

"I hate when everyone else is getting laid and I'm not. Even you're screwing Dr. Cullen."

"I am not screwing Dr. Cu–" A door opens to our right, Dr. Cullen walking out of it. I stop and Rose keeps walking, leaving me to deal. He stands in front of me, coffee cup in hand. "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you too. I work here, remember?" As if I could forget. I keep walking down the hall, him tagging along at my side. "I have a meeting at six and then I was hoping I could convince you to let me buy you breakfast."

"That sounds awfully datelike."

"Well that was the intention."

"Mm. I already ate."

"Oh really? What'd you have?"

"None of your business."

He continues to pry, nudging me in the side. "Oh come on. Pancakes, right? Or maybe you're more of a cereal girl. It was cereal, wasn't it?"

"A peanut butter chewy bar, actually. Happy?"

"That's sad," he shakes his head, continuing to follow me. "You can't start a good day without a good breakfast. A chewy bar is not a good breakfast."

I stop and cross my arms, giving him my best stern look. "Look, I'm not being seen with you in this hospital. It's a new rule."

"Why? I'm just a nice doctor getting to know one of the nurses."

"Who you happened to sleep with. It's completely unprofessional."

"Yeah, but barely knew. Doesn't count."

"Exactly. And that's how it should stay." He eyes me over the top of his coffee, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine, you want me to be professional?" I nod my head in response, glancing at the patient assignment board. "Then that's what you get."

He straightens up, writing his pager number on the board under the physicians section. "Nice talking with you, Miss Swan," he says loudly, walking over to the chart carousel.

"He's pretty cute, huh?" Kate, one of the other nurses whispers to me. I shrug, trying to act nonchalant. She twists her blonde braid between her fingers, staring absentmindedly over the top of her computer.

"I guess. He's not really my type," I lie, earning an incredulous type from her.

"How can he not be your type? He's every ones type, unless you're a lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with that…"

Oh great, that's exactly the kind of rumor I need going around right now. "Uh, thanks but definitely not a lesbian." She just shrugs, smiling at Dr. Cullen from her computer screen. Jake from RT walks up, grabbing a pulse ox from the counter. "Jake's cute," I offer, just to reiterate my sexuality and keep her off the Dr. Cullen track.

"Amen to that."

He pulls out his clipboard on the countertop next to us, greeting us both with a smile. "Hey Bella, I like that color on you," he winks. My cheeks flush as I realize my long sleeve shirt is the same color as the bra he unfortunately got to see the other day. He just laughs.

"Keep dreaming, Jake."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bella."

I walk directly past Dr. Cullen without so much as a look when I go to hang my cephalexin for my lymphangitis patient in 22. I stuff the package of secondary tubing into my pants pocket, knocking on the door.

Mrs. June is a 63-year old woman who got cellulitis in her hand after a deep bite from her elderly cat. It traveled into her lymph system, causing a red streak up her arm that prompted her to go into the hospital. I glance at her arm and mark the edges of the red streak with my sharpie, allowing me to monitor any spread outside of those lines during my shift. She chats with me about "Embry" her grey tabby while I spike my bag and backprime my tubing. I drop the bag of normal saline down and set my flow rate on the pump.

"I guess what this has made me realize is that maybe this is his time, you know? I've been doing everything I can to keep him alive, but I think he bit me to let me know he was done." Her cheeks are peppered with tears, so I take the non-bitten hand in mine and squeeze gently. "He is 17 afterall."

"It sounds like you were a wonderful owner and that you love him very much." She nods, wiping her eyes.

"I do. My son is going to take him to his farm in Sonoma. Let him go in peace when he's ready, you know? I think he'll be happier."

"I think you're right. Maybe when he comes later he could bring you a few pictures of Embry to put up on the bed posts."

Before leaving the room, I draw a simple cat face on the board to cheer her up. It makes her smile and that's all that matters.

The next morning I'm on my own. Rose and Alice both have the day off, leaving me to fend for myself. I'm finishing the last of my strawberry pop tart when I run into Dr. Cullen.

"Chewy bar again?"

"Even better. Strawberry poptart." He rolls his eyes, heading down the same hallway as me.

"You're pathetic."

"You're obnoxious."

His hand wraps around my upper arm gently, tugging me to face him and his sleepy eyes. "Go to breakfast with me tomorrow. There's a café two blocks away that has outside seating and the best coffee in San Francisco. Say yes."

I consider him for a moment, trying to decide if it's worth it to fight this anymore. Ultimately, I don't think I have the energy and it's not like he's being completely unreasonable. "Yes," I answer, and if anything, the crooked smile he gives me is totally worth it.

"That's it? I had a whole speech planned out. I was expecting to have to make more of a case."

"I said yes. Don't push it."

"Eight-thirty?" I nod and he taps something into his phone. "If you stand me up I'll be devastated."

"Me too."

.o.o.o.

I park my car a few blocks away, tucking my hands into my coat pockets as I walk. It's warm for early November, something I've learned to expect as the norm in San Francisco.

Edward is sitting at a table in the corner, dressed casually in a dark grey long sleeved shirt and faded jeans. Ray bans cover his eyes and his hair is in its usual state of disarray, bright copper under the faint sun.

"Hello," I greet him, slinging my bag over the back of the chair. He grins and hands me a menu, leaning back in his chair.

"You came."

"I came." It's a silent truce between us. I don't know what it means or how things are going to pan out, but it's a step in what feels like the right direction.

We skim the menus and steal glances at each other when we think the other isn't looking, and I doubt it's a coincidence that we seem to have the smallest table in the patio. When his knee brushes against mine I don't complain, and it feels nice to surrender a bit.

"So, anything look good? I know they don't have chewy bars or poptarts on the menu, but I figured something might jump out to you."

I unwrap my scarf and wad it into my purse, warm enough in my navy blue cardigan. "Maybe a thing or two. I mean it'll be no strawberry poptart, but I can settle."

"Don't settle. Have what you want." He gives me a meaningful look and I squirm under his gaze because somehow it feels like we're not talking pancakes or French toast anymore.

The waiter saves me by popping over at that moment, and I decide on raspberry pancakes and a cup of coffee. Edward orders a waffle and a mug off coffee, his hand brushing against my wrist as he reaches for my menu. The accidental touches are flirty and leave me feeling girly and alive.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm all for warm weather, it's just not acceptable for November," he laughs, gesturing towards the pale blue sky. Conversation flows easily between us, and I try to fill in some of the gaps of who he is and break down my assumptions.

"Who complains about warm weather in November? Maybe you're the one who's unacceptable."

"I'm from New York. I'm genetically engineered to dislike everywhere except Manhatten." He shrugs like this is the most obvious thing in the world. I just roll my eyes at him.

"Oh come off it. You're telling me you can honestly sit here and complain right now?" He grins, raising his hands in defeat. "So I thought."

When our waiter delivers steaming plates of food, I actually find myself a little disappointed that it came so quickly. Conversing with Edward is easy and light, and way less complicated than I had made it out to be in my head.

As soon as I smell my pancakes though, I don't mind so much.

We eat in comfortable silence, the occasional scrape of a fork causing us to glance up at each other and smile.

"See," he muses, pointing towards what's left of my pancake stack, "I guessed you were a pancake person."

"Only on special occasions. Try this."

I stab a piece of syrup drenched pancake and offer him my fork, laughing as he eats it right from my hand, eyes on mine the entire time.

"You're incorrigible."

He insists on paying for breakfast, and walks me to my car with my hand tucked in his.

"So, breakfast. Just breakfast, right?"

"Pretty sure that was a date."

"A date?"

"Mm. I told you it was only a matter of time before I'd wear you down."

I stop when we reach my prius, turning to face him.

"I had fun."

"I hate to say I told you so." He reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "You know there's other meals too. There's lunch, dinner… dessert."

"We'll see."

"Give me a chance, Bella. I'm not looking to mess you around. I don't know how many other ways to phrase that, but it's the truth."

"Okay."

"That's it? I put my heart out on the line and you just say 'okay?' I mean come on give a little –"

I tilt forward on my toes to press my lips against his, soft and sweet. Once the surprise wears off he kisses back, gripping my shoulders between his hands. He tugs on my lower lip with his teeth, and his kisses taste like coffee and maple syrup.

"I'm sorry I called you a jackass."

"You didn't."

"I did, to Rose. Twice."

**Sorry it took so long to update! Things are crazy for the next week because of finals and what not, but then it'll slow down and I'll be able to update more regularly. Thanks for reading and reviewing :)**


	7. Between the Sheets

**I don't own either Greys or Twilight. I do own this story, and the plot and such. If you're not a citrus fan, this chapter is not for you ;)**

_You and me, between the sheets_

_Ooh, sweet sleepless tumbling night_

_Oh, and the morning on the your skin and loved up light_

_Tracing patterns in the maze of your back_

_Softly, softly the goose bumps like that_

_And then a kiss, maybe another and another one_

(Between the Sheets – Imogen Heap)

The day of my dinner date with Edward, I run around the house in a flurry of jitters. I vacuum, I scrub, I wipe down the baseboards, I vacuum again. By five o'clock the apartment is cleaner than it probably was when we moved in, and I'm dusty and exhausted. It's nothing a warm shower can't fix, however, and I take my time letting the warm water slide down my back. I exfoliate with vanilla body wash and shave my entire legs – not just stopping at the knee.

I stand in front of my closet in my bra and underwear, staring blankly at the rows of hangers in front of me. Suddenly everything is too much, too little, too this or too that. I thumb the edge of the towel that's wrapped around my hair, debating between the little black dress that makes my boobs look fantastic and the red one that Rose calls my "fuck me dress." The man has already seen me naked, for Christ sake. I could probably show up in a paper bag and he'd be thrilled.

But despite all my Edward-directed sarcasm and rejection over the past month, I feel excited and nervous and raw. Like he's seeing me for the first time or something, and I have something to prove. I guess it's just easier to hide behind the sarcasm and disinterest. But in the end, the vulnerability is worth it.

At least I hope so.

The doorbell rings and I jump, glancing at the clock; seven-fifteen. He's early and I'm beyond late and my heart has settled somewhere around my larynx.

I make a flash decision and throw on the black dress, pulling it down over my thighs as I run towards the door.

"No, no, no, no –"

I throw open the door and forget in my panic that I'm wearing a hot pink towel on top of my head, and have no make up on at all. Before me stands a well-dressed Edward Cullen, looking fuck-hot amazing in a button down dress shirt tucked into black slacks, a bouquet of white spray roses and snap dragons in one hand.

"I'm early," he offers apologetically, the corners of his mouth twitching into a grin as he takes in my towel and bare feet.

"I'm late," I reply, not budging from my space in the doorway. So far, my whole night-going-perfectly-plan doesn't seem to be falling into place like I'd hoped.

"Really? I couldn't tell. You look beautiful. I'm particularly partial to the towel on your head." If he can tell I'm mortified, he doesn't act like it. Instead he just peaks over my shoulder into my living room. "Are you going to invite me in, or should I find a seat in the stairwell?"

"Er, right. Sorry. Of course you can come in. I'll just –" he steps through the doorway, playing with the hem of my cap sleeve. Edward at the hospital or breakfast is hot, but somehow Edward in my apartment is even hotter. His lips ghost across my cheek as he passes me, giving me space.

"If you point to a vase, I'll get these in water. Go do your thing, I'll just wait for you out here." I offer a silent prayer of thanks to the universe and skitter down the hall as fast as I can. I try to blowdry, powder, and fluff as quickly as I can without seeming too desperate or too aloof. I dust a thin layer of glitter across my collar bones for good measure, and a little on my eyelids as well. I shrug my maroon trench coat over my shoulders and my black flats onto my feet before rejoining Edward in the living room.

He's reclining back on my couch with Rose's latest copy of People magazine, thumbing through the pages with knitted eyebrows.

"Catching up on some quality reading?" He jumps as he realizes I've rejoined him, then slowly drags his eyes from my head to toes. I shiver slightly under his gaze, suddenly warm and flushed.

"I just want you to know I had a really great comeback for that. But I'll have to get back to you on what it was."

"Come on, Casanova. We're going to miss our reservations.

Edward takes me to an Italian restaurant in North Beach where I giggle from the wine and the dirty things he whispers into my ear. I take small pleasure in the fact that our waitress has tried to shove her boobs in his face every chance she gets and he hasn't even noticed. I've noticed, however, that with each glass of wine his hand seems to slide further up my leg and is now thumbing the hem of my dress, which seems to be higher up my thighs than it was earlier in the evening.

He nibbles my earlobe playfully, pressing a kiss to the side of my throat.

"God, I can't wait to get you into my sheets again. I've been thinking about it ever since you snuck out of them at four in the morning last time."

"Well what are we still doing here, then?"

We get the check in record time, and Edward even pretends not to notice when the waitress returns his receipt with her number written across it. He leaves the receipt in the folder, helping me with my coat and wrapping his arm around my waist.

When he leads me up the stairs and flips on the lights, I actually take the time to look around his place. A wooden coffee table is stacked high with medical journals in front of a black leather couch, bookcases lining the opposite wall. More medicals journals, various books and frames are scattered across the shelves and there are still some cardboard boxes haphazardly labeled on the floor. I can see Edward in the few touches around his place, but it's clear he wasn't kidding when he said he'd _just_ moved here from New York, and I realize I still don't know why. While I stand there thinking this over he appears behind me, kissing my neck and holding out a wine glass.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get me drunk, Dr. Cullen."

"Smart girl," he grins, taking a sip from his own glass. "I like when you call me Dr. Cullen."

"I'm sure." I swirl my glass thoughtfully, taking a small sip. "Why did you leave New York?"

He raises an eyebrow, looking back at me over the brim of his glass. "Why, are you suddenly regretting my decision?"

"Not even." He leans in to kiss me again put I push him back gently, undeterred by his attempt to deflect the conversation. "Seriously, though. I've known you for over a month now. We've slept together, apparently we're dating. I feel like I know so little about you."

"You know a lot about me. You know what I eat for breakfast, how I drink my coffee. What car I drive, where I live, and where I work. How I have a particular affinity for you in the color blue and am a Yankees fan through and through."

"Come on, seriously. It's not like I'm asking you to cure cancer or solve the national budget."

He sighs, leaning back against the kitchen table. "Bella, I will tell you everything you want to know, okay? Every insignificant, unattractive detail of my life. But for tonight, I don't want to think about New York, I just want to focus on getting you naked again and all the different things I can do to you. Deal?"

I'm sorry, what was I saying before?

I abandon my wine glass and coat on the coffee table, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his. He kisses me roughly and crushes me against him, hard against my thigh. He grabs me under my knee and hitches my leg to his hip, causing my dress to ride up and our bodies to align.

"Wait, wait," he gasps, breathless and dark eyed. He takes a deep breath and adjusts himself, as I clutch my upper arm. I can't help but feel a slight sting of rejection, but before I can dwell on it too much he gently unclenches my hand and rests his hands above my elbows. "I just want to take my time, okay? Really explore you. We don't need to rush, we have all night."

He takes my hand in his and leads me up the stairs, closing the bedroom door behind me. His room seems to have less boxes than the downstairs, but it still only has glimpses of Edward and is more neutral if anything. I don't settle on it for long before he turns me to face him, eyes burning into mine.

"You're so beautiful, Bella. Even with a towel on your head."

I laugh and push his shoulder gently, shivers tickling my vertebrae as he captures my wrist in his hand. When he leans in to kiss me it's slow and deep, tongues tangled and sliding against each other lazily. I'm dizzy from his smell and the taste of wine on his lips, flesh igniting when his hand travels over my shoulder and lingers momentarily on the zipper of my dress before dragging it down my spine. He pushes the sleeves off of my shoulders and lets the dress fall to a puddle around my feet, leaving me before him in only my black lace bra and matching panties.

He groans, hands burning down my lower back to cup my ass, kissing me harder. His lips trail to the corner of my mouth and down my jaw to my neck, as I fumble with the buttons of his dress shirt. He licks and bites and sucks at the junction of my neck and collar bone, and I can't find it in me to care if I have a mark tomorrow. If I'm being totally honest part of me secretly hopes there is a mark. Something that claims me officially as his, as high school as that is.

I take time undoing his belt buckle, reveling in the way he sucks in his breath each time my hand accidentally or not-so-accidentally brushes against his length. He pushes past my hands to unzip them himself, stepping out of them and guiding me closer towards the bed.

"You're killing me, here."

I push at the waistband of his boxers, taking him in my hand, warm and silk skin against mine. I let my thumb circle over the wet tip, fingers trailing down to the base and then pumping back up to the top. He inhales sharply against my shoulder, taking the elastic of my black underwear in his fingers. My skin is putty beneath his touch, and I am all too happy to oblige when we finish undressing each other and he lies me down on his bed. He reaches behind me to unclasp my bra in one smooth motion, and I must have given him some kind of look because he gives me a sheepish smile.

Whatever look was on my face is instantly wiped off as his lips trails down my chest, his tongue circling around my nipple while his hand caresses and kneads the other. I wriggle beneath him, shamelessly grinding against his erection for friction. He hisses, blowing cool air over my chest before his fingers blaze heat across my skin, teasing my hypersensitive folds.

"God, you're so wet…" he pants, pressing, one, two fingers inside. It feels so good I almost can't handle it, and I tip my head back as he hits that one spot that only he seems to know how to find. I reach down between us to grip him in my hand, his fingers pace inside me quickening as I squeeze him.

"Please," I whisper, and then he's reaching across me to fumble through the nightstand drawer, tearing foil. I sit up on my knees, taking the foil package from him, and slowly work the thin plastic over his length.

"Jesus fuck," he pants, sitting up on his elbows to watch. I push him down gently before placing a knee on each side of his hips, slowly lowering myself onto him. Jesus fuck is right. He stretches and fills me in ways that my hazy memory from our first time did no justice, causing me to gasp and dig my fingernails in his shoulders. Our breaths are frantic and irregular, his hands gripping my thighs. Once I'm used to the feeling of him inside, I start to move, meeting his thrusts and setting a rhythm. His hands press up my sides and ghost across my ribcage, reaching up to tease the sensitive peaks of my breasts. I lean forward to press my lips messily against his, his hands gripping my ass as our erratic pulses try to align.

"I need…" He flips me onto my back, hovering over me. "I need to control this right now. You're too," He shakes his head flicking his tongue over my nipple. I bite my lip as he enters me again and sets a faster pace, hitching my leg over his hip and pushing into me hard. With my leg up he hits spots I didn't even know I had, and I start to feel my pelvic muscles constrict as I clutch the sheets between my fingers.

"Oh my god, Edward, I'm going to…" his thumb reaches down between us to circle my clit, giving me the push I needed to go over the edge. My back arches into him as I cry out, boneless and breathless beneath him. He follows shortly after, falling to my side as we both try to catch our breath.

"Holy shit."

"Yeah."

"You held out on me last time." He laughs, pinching my side as I squirm.

"I was drunk, and was not nearly as attracted to you then as I am now."

"How attracted to me are you now, then?"

"Give me a few minutes and I'll show you."

.o.o.o.

We manage to keep our new thing, whatever it is, a secret from the rest of the hospital for two whole weeks. Then Edward decides to kiss me on his way into work, and I'm too punch drunk to care.

"Not your type, huh?" Kate smirks, leaning her weight on her left hip. "I can't even be mad at you. Get it, girl."

I'm glancing at the tele monitor, when Mr. Banners strip starts to alarm. The EKG shows V-tac, and I run down the hall as fast as my battered sneakers can take me. I skid into the doorway, pausing when I see an upright in bed Mr. Banner laughing his head off. His hands are tapping two of the tele probes, obviously causing what had looked like V-tac.

"Training for Bay to Breakers?" He grins, resting his hands.

"Mr. Banner, when you tap the electrodes it looks like you're dying on the screen. I'd greatly appreciate if you didn't do that."

"Well it got you in here, didn't it?" I cross my arms over my chest, giving him my best irritated look. "Now, can I get some pudding?"

When he does it a third time later in the morning, I threaten to bring the defibrillator in with me next time and shock him whether he's dying or not. He just shrugs, tapping his spoon against an empty pudding cup.

"I'm always dying, doll. Shock away."

When my pager goes off mid-way through charting at the end of my shift telling me his tele monitor is going off again, I walk down to his room instead of running.

"Mr. Banner, what did I tell you earl-" When I step into the room I notice he's still and his spoon and half eaten pudding cup are on the floor. I drop my clipboard and run to his side, pushing the code blue button and kicking the emergency CPR lever that drops the bed down to flat. He's flat-lining, and I bring my fists down onto his chest hard in vain, hoping it'll kick start his heart.

It doesn't.

I start compressions, pushing down as hard and fast on his chest as I can as the room starts to fill, barely hearing the _Code blue room 28, code blue room 28, code blue…"_ over the loud speaker.

"Come on, Mr. Banner. Not yet, don't die on me…" Around me the room is a buzz as people get ready to push medications and grab the crash cart.

"Push one of Epi," a voice shouts, as people gather near me to access his IV port and someone else charges the defibrillator. I hear Edward enter before I see him, the beep of the cardiac monitor loud in my ear.

"Stop, every body stop." Everyone else freezes, but I continue my compressions. "He's a DNR. Thank you for your quick response."

I shake my head, continuing to push on his chest, trying to will him back to life. _Come on, come on… _The room starts to empty, and I panic as I hear them rolling the crash cart away. "No he can't be… I can still… where's the damn crash cart?"

"Bella," he says gently, placing his hands over mine. "He's in asystole, he doesn't have a shockable rhythm. You need to stop."

I continue my compressions, tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. _Come on, come on…_

"Bella, stop." My shoulders drop, and I cave, trying my best not to cry. "Time of death, 1837."

"Excuse me," I whisper, getting myself out of that room as fast as my baby blue vans can take me. I head straight for one of the empty patient rooms in the closed south wing, covering my eyes with my elbow as I lean against the bed and cry. I hear the door open and close, and then Edward is in front of me and holding me to his chest.

"Bella, I'm so sorry. I'm so," I bury my face into his scrub shirt, breathing him in and shaking in his arms. He holds me tight, fingers tracing uneven patterns between my scapulae as he whispers gently in my ear. "I know he was your patient for awhile, and he was important to you."

I pull back and look up at him, reaching for the drawstring of his pants. He places his hand on mine and I shake my head, reaching for him.

"I need… I just need to feel you. Please."

He nods and lets me untie him, reaching for mine at the same time. When he enters me I clutch his shoulders and bury my face into his chest, feeling alive.

**It's a common misconception thanks to television shows that you can shock a flat-lining (asystolic) heart. Defibrillators are used to reset a hearts rhythm, so to speak, when it is in an electrical pattern that does not result in a adequate heart beat. Examples of this are V-fib (fluttering ventricles) or V-tac (ventricles squeezing too fast). Also, it really is true that if patient's tap on the electrodes of their telemetry monitor, it can look like one of these rhythms. It can also happen if your patient is brushing their teeth vigorously. It gives you a heart attack when it happens. The part that is true from televisions is "codes" when someone is in one of these rhythms are nuts. There's people everywhere, and everything is happening at the same time.**

**That's my little plug for the night. Thanks for reading and reviewing :)**


	8. My Dream is You

**I still don't own either Grey's Anatomy or Twilight. It's not for lack of trying, though. Thanks you guys for giving Mr. Banner some love! I was so sad to see him go but… he was ready. He had a lot going on with him, and was ready to go. **

_My dream is you_

_And when I doubt how do you do it_

_You give the perfect words_

_When you hold my hand I'm free_

_And when you kiss my cheek_

_You melt me_

(The Providence – My Dream is You)

Not to sound like a paranoid schizophrenic or anything, but everyone's giving me weird looks. Okay, maybe not everyone, but it sure feels that way. Shelly keeps raising her eyebrows at me every time I walk by, and Dr. McCarty tried to give me a high five. I'm not even on a first name basis with him, and he tried to freaking high five me.

Clearly these are the repercussions of Edward kissing me at work yesterday.

"Oh come on, you're being schizo. No one's giving you weird… okay well Jessica is, but Jessica gives everyone weird looks. And okay, maybe Shelly is a little grouchier than normal but… maybe her cat died or something?" Rose offers, scribbling something down on her clipboard.

"Rose, she assigned me three C. diff patients and a hyperemesis patient. How much more obvious do you have to get?"

"Bummer. I'm bored out of my mind. I just have post-op patients whoa re all really stable."

"Case in point. Plus, Dr. McCarty tried to high five me."

She sits up at this, barely able to conceal her interest. "Dr. McCarty?"

"Yeah. What's it to you?" I stick out my tongue at her and she shoves my shoulder.

"Nothing. Shut up."

I'm wearing a pair of faded green OR scrubs because I've already been vomited on twice today and gone through my back up pair. I'm going to need at least two showers when I get home, and my lunch break was cut short due to excessive diarrhea and a displaced rectal tube in 21. When I'm done scrubbing my hands for the 90th time, my pager goes off, calling me back to the nurse's station.

Shelly greets me with a clipped tone. "Kate has the flu, so I'm sending her home. I'm giving you her ostomy patient in 23. She's typically putting out 2/3 a bag Qhour, and she has a JP that also needs emptying."

Of course. I don't get the post-op appy, or the day 2 post-op hip replacement patient, or even the pneumonia patient. I get the most body fluids and work on top of a body fluid heavy and work heavy assignment already. I sigh, and she raises an eyebrow at me. "Problem, Swan?"

"No, not at all. Just a little overwhelmed, is all."

"Ah well. You made your bed, time to lay in it."

I get report from a sniffling and very apologetic Kate in a respiratory mask, scribbling down some notes as quickly as possible. I pull up the patient's recent labs in her EMR, writing down any critical values. While I'm glancing at the chart, Shelly walks over to shout something to Jessica.

"Jessica, when you have a second, can you assist Dr. Cullen in 28? He's trying to do a thoracentesis but Mrs. Front won't stop moving."

"Oh Shelly, I doubt he wants _my_ assistance. Have Bella assist him; apparently _she_ can help Dr. Cullen in ways the rest of us can't."

She smirks at me and saunters out of the report room, slamming the door behind her. Shelly just raises an eyebrow at me.

"Guess I'm not the only one cutting out your work for you, hm?"

I take a deep breath before walking as calmly as I can down the hall. Really the only way I'm going to get through this shift is by spending as much time away from the nurses station as possible, so I hijack a portable computer and park it down in one of the empty patient rooms to do my charting.

This way, the rest of my shift passes without much drama. I'm able to stay out of the line of fire and do good patient care, despite everything. I switch off spending my time in my patient's room and my self-designated "office." Later, when I give report to the three different night nurses my patients are being spread out to, they baulk when they realize I'd had all five today.

What's that old saying? Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop. I'm in too deep in this Edward thing, which I knew would happen when I was trying so hard to prevent it. There's no going back now, but thankfully I'm built from stronger stuff than what they're throwing at me.

As I'm changing out of my hospital issued scrubs and dumping them unceremoniously into the laundry bin, Jessica walks into the locker room. She makes a point not to look at me as she changes out of her own, sparkly clean scrubs.

"Every body thinks you're a really good nurse, Bella." She starts pulling her sweater over her head. "You have everyone's respect in an instant because of your reputation. Doctors look at the board and see your name next to their patient and feel relieved because they _know_ how good you are and that you're supposed to be here. Me? I'm still trying to prove myself. I'm still the new nurse that not everyone knows. I walk down the hall and I get asked sometimes if I'm the CNA."

I sit down on the bench and watch her, letting her continue on with her speech. We haven't had much interaction with each other in the past, but the interaction we had hadn't been unpleasant or anything.

"You have their respect and you're throwing it away for what? Special treatment?"

"No. It's not about special treatment, and I don't get special treatment anyway."

"Then what? Some hot sex? That's worth ruining your credibility over? I mean seriously?" I roll my eyes at her and don't move from the bench. Her eyes widen as she looks at me. "Oh my god. Are you like… falling for him?"

"I am not."

"Oh, you so are."

"No. I am so _not._"

"You so are. Damn it. That sucks."

"You know it's just that he's so… so… and I'm just, I'm having a hard time… I mean I tried for so long…" She just shakes her head, looking like she knows something I clearly don't. "I hate you" She laughs, sitting down beside me shaking her head.

"So… how hot is the sex?"

"Jessica!"

"Oh come on. He's like… sex on legs, it has to be good. You know you want to share."

.o.o.o.

"You know, you don't have to cook for me."

"I like cooking." He pulls out a wooden spoon from a drawer near the stove, poking me playfully in the side with it before stirring the tomatoes.

"Yeah but… I don't cook. I can't cook. So you really don't have to cook for me."

"How about you sit right here," he guides me over towards one of the barstools, pushing on my shoulders until I sit down. "And pretend for a second that you're not all scary and damaged and let me cook for you."

"I am not scary and damaged!"

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Alright then." He leans on the counter across from me, holding the wooden spoon out to me to taste the sauce. It's ridiculously good. "Tell me about your family."

"Just because I don't want to talk about my family does not make me scary and damaged."

"Alright then, so tell me why you wouldn't go out with me for so long."

"We work together."

"That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard. Denied."

We lock eyes, both every bit as determined as the other. I've always been famous for the stubbornness, but it seems I might just have met my match.

"I'm scary and damaged," I smirk, sticking my tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes, turning back to whatever good-smelling thing it is he's making.

"You know, you're going to have to let me in eventually, Bella. I'm too irresistible for my own good."

"Oh yeah? Tell me about New York then."

"Touché." He hands me a plate of linguini with tomato sauce and what looks like different types of seafood. "Would love to, but the food's ready."

"I'm sure."

We eat in contented silence until we're both full and exhausted, my head drooping onto Edward's shoulder.

He shakes my shoulder gently, kissing my temple.

"Long day?"

"Mmph," is my intelligent response as I try to rub the kink out of my neck. We slip off the barstools and abandon our plates in the sink to head for the bedroom. I rub my eyes as I strip down to my underwear and t-shirt, glancing at an equally disheveled Edward standing on the other side of the bed in boxers and his dress shirt.

"Do you want to just… sleep tonight?" In this moment, it may just be the sexiest thing he's ever said to me.

"Oh thank god." I collapse onto my stomach, dropping my phone on the bedside table and internally high fiving myself for being smart enough to have pre-set alarms for work. The mattress dips as he falls down beside me, pulling me into his side.

"Gnight," he mumbles into my hair, holding me close.

"Mm."

Sleep comes easy after a long week, and I even wake up a few minutes before my alarm. I glance at Edward, hair messy across his face and chest slowly rising with each breath.

You know how when you were a little kid you believed in fairytales? The fantasy of how your life would be? White dress, perfect job, your own personal Prince Charming who would carry you away from everything to a beautiful castle on a hill? You'd lie awake at night, eyes closed, with complete and utter faith that life would work out exactly that way.

Waking up next to Edward almost makes me believe that it had happened. And that scares the crap out of me.

He changes into jeans and a light grey button down shirt, pulling a sweater over his head and fixing his collar. I watch him almost in a daze while I pull on my own jeans and sweater, raking a hairbrush quickly through my hair. I have a toothbrush in his bathroom. We brush our teeth side by side, sleepy eyed at 4 am.

Eventually you grow up. You wake up, open your eyes, and the fairytale is over. Instead you're plagued by things like 4 am wake ups, and oil check lights, and leaks in the bathroom ceiling. And when things seem like they are really really good, it's almost a guarantee something is going to go seriously wrong.

"You've got that look on your face."

"What look?" He hands me a cup of coffee as we step into the lobby, looking all smirky.

"That thinking-really-hard look. Come on, spill. It's obviously bothering you."

"It's just that I hardly know anything about you." He sighs as I play with the sleeve on my coffee cup, taking in a deep breath.

"Oh come on Bella, not this again. You know I'm from New York, you know I'm a doctor. You've stayed at my house every night for the past week."

"Cut the crap. What about your friends?"

"I'm a doctor. I don't have friends." I roll my eyes, walking through the doorway as he holds open the door to the stairwell.

"That's ridiculous. Everyone has friends. I mean, who do you hang out with? What do you do on your days off? These are important questions!"

"Ah, important. For who?"

"We're having sex every night. I think I deserve details."

"We didn't have sex last night."

"Edward…" I stop at he top of the stairs, placing my hands on my hips. He leans against the wall, grinning at me.

"Well it's true. Anway, you know more details than most."

"See, this is going somewhere weird." He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. "I want facts. And until I get them, there will be no sex."

"Or you could just roll with it. Be flexible, see what happens."

"I'm not flexible."

He laughs, crossing his arms. "Ah, there I disagree."

"Come on. Give me something to work with. What was your childhood like? Where'd you grow up? What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Lighten up. It'll be good for your blood pressure."

"Don't tell me to lighten up. I'll lighten up when I feel…" He raises an eyebrow at me. "…Light!"

His pager starts to beep, and he glances at it, still grinning. "I have to go. We'll find these things out. That's the fun part, you know? Don't ruin the fun part." He ducks out of the stairwell then, but I yell back anyway, even if he can't hear me.

"That's what I'm talking about! I don't want to just _be_ the fun part!"

I start my morning assessments, listening to lungs and bowel sounds, palpating pulses and checking IV sites. I head into a patient room to assess my post-op hip replacement patient's dressing change, gauze and tape stuffed in my pockets.

"Good morning, Mrs. Heron," I greet her, flipping on the light switch. "How are you feeling today?"

"Oh, fine. Nothing a little Norco earlier didn't fix." She smiles, pushing herself gently up in bed. "

"How's your pain now?" I draw back the covers on her right side to observe the current dressing. There's a little bit of blood that has leaked through in the lower half, and there's a small amount of blood on her sheets. I make a mental note to let Lauren know she'll need her sheets changed a day early.

"Oh it's fine. Maybe a two. How does it look?" I remove the gauze and assess the vertical scar, noting that the edges are well approximated and the sutures all seem to be intact. There is minimal redness along the suture line, and no purulent discharge.

"I'd say it looks pretty good."

"Good. I can't wait to get out of here and show it off to my grandkids."

My morning is fairly unremarkable, and while I still give Shelly a wide berth, she doesn't seem to be on my case as much. I even manage to get a smile out of Jessica before I meet up with Jasper for lunch in the cafeteria.

"Hey stranger," I greet him, dropping my tray down across from him.

"Hey yourself. Where have you been all my life?" He grabs one of my fries, dipping it into the little ketchup cup.

"Up four floors in the hospital and down the hall from you at home." I eat a few of my fries, pouring the little dressing pack on my salad. "How are things with Alice?" He grins, taking a sip from his drink.

"Alice is pretty great. I think she might be it, Bella."

"Like, it, it?" I raise my eyebrows and he nods. "Good, then Rose owes me ten bucks."

We laugh and catch up, and I even fill him in a little on my whatever-it-is with Edward. He listens attentively and I realize how much I'd missed him over this past week.

"I say give him the benefit of the doubt, you know? Don't set it up to fail."

"I know. I'm just scared, I guess." He offers to take my tray for me, throwing out the garbage and dropping it in the pile of other empty trays.

"Well yeah, no shit. But the really scary things tend to be the ones that are most worth it. So I'm just saying. Maybe he's right and you should just roll with it." We make promises for a movie night in the next few days and go our separate ways down the hall.

I run into Rose later in the break room getting coffee and ask her to cough up her ten bucks. She just sticks her tongue out at me before dropping two fives in front of me.

"I hate you both. Who would have guessed Jasper of all people would be in a stable relationship before me. You both disgust me."

"I'm not in a relationship."

She snorts and looks at me incredulously before picking up her coffee cup and heading for the door. "Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England."

A voice clears softly behind me, and I turn to see Edward standing near the lockers, his coat in hand. He eyes me warily, a small smile ghosting his lips.

"You know, some people would call this a relationship. The kind where you exchange keys, and leave a toothbrush over."

"Who? Who would call it that?"

"Me. I would." I roll my eyes at him, grabbing my coat from my locker. It's hard to believe that things could just be going this well.

"Uh huh. And I'm supposed to believe you."

"Yup."

"Show me something, then. Give me a reason to believe."

"I grew up in Westchester. I have four sisters, two of which are older than me, and two younger. My dad was a surgeon, and my mom was his scrub nurse. My favorite ice cream flavor is pistachio, and I'm really good at scrabble. Favorite color is blue, especially navy blue on you. My favorite band is The Shins, although their latest album sucks. This scar on my forehead?" He points above the bridge of his nose, right near his right eyebrow. "I got hit by a taxi while I was riding my bike in Manhattan." He takes a deep breath and then takes my coat from my arm, holding it out to help me into it. "So that's what I'm giving you. The rest you'll just have to take in faith and be patient to learn in time."

I head for the door, collecting my thoughts. Then I turn back to face him, holding out my hand. "Pistachio ice cream tastes awful."

"Your taste buds just aren't as mature as mine."

We head towards the elevator, my fingers laced with his and everything feels alright. He presses his lips to my ear once we step inside, the doors closing.

"Look what I got." He holds up a brand new, unwrapped blue toothbrush smiling mischievously.

"Are you trying to give me a hint?" He laughs, slipping it back into his pocket. "Not for you. For me."

"Why?"

"Because I want to have one at your place."


	9. Don't Bring me Down

**I don't own the original stories, just my silly mash up of the two. Finals are done so I'm breathing easier :)**

_Faint light of dawn_

_I'm listening to you breathing in and breathing out_

_Needing nothing_

_You're honey dipped_

_You are beautiful, floating clouds, soft world_

_I can't feel my lips_

_I'm going down, I don't want to change_

_I'm going down, going down the drain_

(Sia – Don't Bring me Down)

_Ring, ring…_

I hear Edward reach over to the bedside table, silencing the ringer on his phone. Two minutes later, it starts to ring again.

"Aren't you gonna get that? It might be the hospital."

"It's not." I pull the pillow over my head, groaning as it starts to ring again.

"Oh my god, just freaking answer it before I strangle you."

He flips the switch to silent, turning onto his stomach.

_Ring, ring…_

Now my phone is ringing, and when I see the caller ID read "Charlie" I make the same move Edward did. Not ready to go there this morning. Or ever.

"Answer the phone, Bella," he replies in a mock voice, and I flip him off as I roll out of bed.

"I'm not getting back to sleep at this point, thanks to you. I'm taking a freaking shower." I grab my phone and take it with me, ducking into the bathroom.

I hesitate tapping the number on the screen in front of me. Instead I comb my hair, straighten the towels, brush my teeth… anything to avoid the inevitable. If I don't reply, though, I know he'll just keep calling. Taking a deep breath I call him back quickly while I fiddle with the shower knobs.

"What?"

"I…" he takes a deep breath and I sigh, realizing he's probably drunk.

"I have to go to work."

"Okay."

I hang up the phone and set it on the bathroom shelf, stepping into the shower. At 3:30 am the day is already feeling long, and it hasn't even really started yet. Yay for me.

"I feel like crap," I whine, sipping my coffee. Edward presses the back of his hand to my forehead, shrugging his shoulders. "You got me sick."

"No I didn't. If you're sick you shouldn't be at the hospital, you should go home and rest."

"Disease, diagnosis, and prescription all from one man! Aren't I a lucky girl!"

"Hey, Bella can I get your help? Mr. Moore's IV fell out and he's a hard stick." I down the rest of my coffee and rub my eyes, following Jessica down the hall. Ever since her confrontation a few weeks ago, we'd been on good terms. Maybe even friends. Or friendly acquaintances, really.

"Hi Mr. Moore," I greet the patient, following Jessica into the room. "My name's Bella. I'm going to be putting a new IV in your arm, okay?" I set up the bedside table with a towel, alcohol wipes, a new IV catheter pack, a tourniquet, and a saline flush syringe.

"Can you squeeze your hand into a fist for me a few times?" I ask, securing the tourniquet around his upper arm. I place a warm compress over his arm, trying to improve peripheral vasodilation. I decide to place it antecubitally, wiping down the area with an alcohol wipe and letting it dry while I get my supplies prepped. I pull down on the skin for tension, getting ready to insert the needle.

"Alright, Mr. Moore take a nice deep breath for me… perfect," I smile, applying pressure and untying the tourniquet. I hit the safety, removing the sharp and handing it to Jessica to drop in the sharps container. I attach the saline syringe, pushing slowly. The saline goes in without resistance, and I tape the IV in place and cover it with an occlusive dressing.

"Thanks, Bella." Jessica and I clean up the bedside table, and I wave goodbye before excusing myself from the room.

"Hey," Edward greets me, placing his arm on my elbow. "Sorry about this morning I –"

We're interrupted by his phone ringing, and he shakes his head, rejecting the call.

"Anyway, come over tonight after work? I'll cook. I want to talk to you about something."

"Oh, and here I was about to offer to cook."

"Ha! You're funny. I've heard your horror stories. Thanks but no thanks."

I roll my eyes but kiss his cheek before heading for the nurse's station.

"What's wrong with you? You look like you need to be spoon fed," Rose greets me as she walks past.

"Good morning to you to. Always so pleasant to see you."

"Are you sick?" When I nod she wrinkles her nose, placing her two pointer fingers in an 'X' and holding them out to me. "Well no offense, but stay away from me then."

"Hey Lauren," I greet the CNA, setting down my clipboard next to hers. "Do you have vitals yet?" She nods and starts to rattle them off as I scribble them on my brain sheet.

"25-D 98.4, pulse 72, respirations 16, BP 114/64…" My phone starts to ring in my pocket, Charlie's number popping up. I shake my head, silencing the call.

"Sorry, continue."

"34-D 100.2, pulse 106…"

When I've finished copying down my vitals I excuse myself to an empty room down the hall and call him back.

"You've got to stop calling me. I'm at work."

"Look I just… I get why you don't want to talk to me, okay kid? But I… I wanted to tell you something." I roll one of my pens between my fingers, clicking the contraption at the top for something to do.

"Are you drunk?" I ask him point blank, fiddling with my pen. _Click, click, click…_

"No I'm – look forget it." He hangs up and I'm left feeling confused and distracted as I try to go through the rest of my day.

My fathers' drinking goes back longer than I care to remember, sometime after the divorce. Or maybe before; maybe it's always been that way. I lived with my mom, so aside from a few summers it's not like I really know the guy. He remarried, had two kids, and I haven't seen him since.

I try to push it out of my head so I can get through my day. With the way today's going so far the last thing I need is anything distracting me. I glance at my vitals again, before pulling up the EMR for 34-D. Along with her steadily increasing vital signs, her WBC has been trending up, and her urinary output is decreased.

When I see Dr. Newton is assigned to her, I barely suppress a groan. I begin the process of searching him down, finding him hunched over a computer in the nurses station.

"Dr. Newton?" He barely nods his head in response. "Can you order a blood culture for 34-D? Her vitals have been increasing over the past four hours, along with a high WBC count and decreased urinary output and I think she may be septic." Dr. Newton doesn't even look up from his illegible scribbling, not even bothering to acknowledge my presence.

"Her fever's gone from 99.2 at the beginning of the shift to 100.2…"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll order it."

I roll my eyes, walking away before I act on my internal desire to smack the back of his head. Because really, what good is that going to do ultimately?

When the blood culture comes back positive for E. coli, Dr. Newton barks at me to transfer her down to ICU. He doesn't acknowledge that I was right, or that I may have just saved this woman's life. Prick.

"Hey Bella, you're giving me report," Alice smiles, placing her hand on Mrs. Colt's arm. "We're going to take excellent care of you, okay?"

We hook her up to tele, and Alice starts the IV antibiotics before sitting down to hear report. I rattle off a quick summary, giving her a grateful look when she rolls her eyes at Dr. Newton's rudeness.

"What a jerk."

"Mmmhm."

She glances at the tele monitor, then back to me. "Hey, are you okay?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Charlie keeps calling me. I haven't heard from the guy in what, years? Just weird."

I play with my pink ribbon necklace, rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger.

"That's weird. Did you talk to him?"

"Barely. He said he wanted to tell me something but then hung up on me. I don't have time for it, you know?"

"Maybe you should hear what he has to say? Might be worth it."

"Yeah I guess." I sink back into the chair, grateful for a chance to sit down for a moment.

"I'm here if you need me, okay? I know there's a date coming up that's never easy for you…"

I nod, clutching my necklace. "Thanks, Alice."

"Anytime."

When my lunch break rolls around, I decide to take Alice's advice and call Charlie back. I hide in one of the empty rooms in the south wing, nibbling on my grapes nervously.

"Hello?" He answers on the second ring.

"Hi."

"Hi."

There's an awkward silence as we both wait, neither of us good with words.

"So um. I just… I thought you should know. I uh… I started going to AA. Anyway I'm going to get my one year sobriety chip in a month and… I just thought you should know."

Whatever I had been expecting him to say, it certainly wasn't that.

"Oh."

"Yeah. I just thought you should know."

"Well… that's good. Really good."

When I run into Edward later, he looks just as overwhelmed as I feel.

"You okay?"

I nod, straightening out the collar of his lab coat for him. "So those phone calls? It was my dad. I haven't talked to him in over ten years but he… he wanted to tell me he'd been going to AA. That he's almost been sober for a year."

He smiles at me, rubbing my cheek with his thumb. "That's great, Bella."

"I don't… I don't know what it means. If it even means anything. I just wanted to tell you. Since we're in a relationship now and all that."

He kisses me quickly and grins. "Well I'm glad you did. Since we're in a relationship and all that. I'm off in ten, I'll meet you in the lobby when you're done?"

I nod and leave him to finish out my shift. We get a new admit fifteen minutes before the shift is over, so I take one for the team and do it. It means I'll be late but it has to get done.

"Are you a current smoker? How many alcoholic beverages do you drink a day?"

Once I finish the admission interview I do a thorough head to toe assessment, marking my findings in the EMR.

I finish charting, give report, and change clothes in record time. My jeans and thermal long sleeve aren't anything particularly to look at, but we're just going back to Edward's place anyway. I drape my coat over my arm and head for the lobby. Despite everything, I can't help but smile when I see him reclining back in one of the lobby chairs, magazine in hand.

"Long day?" He sets down his copy of the New York Times, stretching his arms.

"Understatement of the century, Edward."

"Don't worry, somewhere outside this hospital there's a bottle of wine and a home cooked dinner with your name on it." He stands up and takes my coat from my arm, holding it out as I slip my arms through the sleeves.

"See, that's why I keep you around."

"Bella, I need to talk to you about something." I place my finger on his lips, replacing it with my lips. He smiles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"Wine first, talking later."

"It's important."

"Mm. You know what else is important? Wine. Dinner. You."

"You just want to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me." He pulls his coat on, affectionately pinching my side.

"I don't have to get you drunk to take advantage of you." He grins and straightens out my collar, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Our 'relationship' status gives me the right to take advantage of you whenever I please."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Mmhm. It's standard protocol." He takes my hand in his, but when he turns around to lead me towards the front door, he stops dead in his tracks.

I follow his eyes to a woman standing by the information desk. She's painfully beautiful, with corn silk curls framing her heart shaped face. An expensive looking tan trench coat is cinched around her slender waist, Burberry scarf tucked beneath the collar. Her ice blue eyes are fixed on Edward as she starts to walk towards us, black pumps clicking on the hospital tile.

Edward's light expression fades to one of defeat as he turns to me, letting go of my hand and placing his hand on my upper arm. "Bella, I just want you to know I'm so sorry."

"What?"

The woman stops in front of him with one hand on her hip and an amused expression on her face, eyes fixed on his in challenge.

"Tanya. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well honestly Edward, if you'd answered any one of the number of phone calls I've made to you over the last week you'd know."

"I had no interest in talking to you. I thought I made that perfectly clear." The ice in Edward's voice is chilling, and I can't help but think back to my thoughts the other day of things feeling almost too good, too easy. Apparently I'd hit the 'something' that was supposed to go wrong head on today. Starting to wish I'd just called in sick.

"Oh really, Edward. This is just getting ridiculous." Her voice is sugar sweet with a heavy aftertaste of venom, and when she turns to me her eyes drag from my faded thermal shirt to my jeans with clear condescension. "Oh how rude of me, I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Tanya Cullen." She holds out a perfectly manicured hand and smiles, looking more like she's about to stab me rather than shake my hand. "Well, _Doctor_ Tanya Cullen."

"Cullen?" I manage to reply, hoping to god she's one of his sisters. Her hand is cold and limp in mine, and when her nails dig in just slightly under my knuckles I know it's not an accident.

"And you must be the woman who's been screwing my husband."

Definitely not a sister.

***hides* Don't hate me… it had to happen. It just did. I'm 100% an Edward and Bella fan, but you'll just have to bear with me for a bit. Thank you for reading and reviewing – it means so much just to know people are reading this. **


	10. Not Falling Apart

**I'm sorry it took two weeks to update. I've been sick, my grandfather died after going into the hospital with pneumonia, and Christmas happened so it's been a whirlwind. He was 94, and had dementia as well so while he didn't remember me when I visited, he did squeeze my hand before I left. So I want to think he recognized me on some level. He's been ill for a long time, so while I miss him a lot, I'm happy he's no longer suffering. It's easy to get caught up in the pressures and craziness of the holidays, but the most important thing and what it's supposed to be about is family. Anyway, sorry for the rant. Thanks for sticking with me :)**

_Try my hardest not to scream_

_I find my heart is growing weak_

_So leave your reasons on the bathroom sink_

_Now I can't walk, I can't talk anymore_

_Since you walked out the door_

_And now I'm stuck living out that night again_

_I'm not falling apart_

(Maroon 5 – Not Falling Apart)

Time seems to slow down, and despite everything my feet seem to be glued to the bleach white linoleum lobby tiles.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Edward runs his hand through his hair, clutching at the roots. Tanya just rolls her eyes, eyes ice blue against her thick black lashes.

"Oh really, don't act so surprised. You can't just pick up and leave and expect to never hear from me again. I let you play house over here for a few months. Now it's time to go back home."

"Tanya," he practically growls, and I think in all the time I've known him, I've never seen him angry before. Like really angry. "This isn't a game, this isn't temporary. I made that very clear –"

She reaches forward to touch his hair, and even though he jerks his head away instantly I feel like I'm going to be sick.

"Your hair's shorter. Still a mess, but you know I always liked that. I'm sure your new girlfriend would agree, wouldn't you, Isabella?" My name sounds like poison on her tongue.

At this point my brain seems to click into place and remind me that I'm still standing here, even though I should have walked away ages ago. The glue seems to come undone from my shoes

I beeline for the door, shoving past Edward's hand when he tries to reach for my shoulder.

"She's… sweet looking. A little young, but she definitely has that whole wide-eyed, he's-a-doctor-thing going on. Great for the ego, I'm sure…"

I push through the doors, clutching my hood as close around my face as I can as I run into the rain. It's in vain, of course, because my coat isn't going to do much against the torrential downpour coming down.

Married.

Motherfucking married.

Of all the – Isabella Marie Swan, you idiot. This is what you get for thinking with your ovaries, not your brain.

When I reach my car I groan, stomping my foot on the pavement, water splashing up my jean leg. Because apparently everything else wasn't enough, my back tire is flat.

"Fuck!"

"Bella, look –" I kick the tire as hard as I can with the toe of my beat-up sneaker.

"You worthless, piece of shit motherfucking jackass –"

"Okay look, I deserved that but if you'll just let me –"

"What?" I turn to face him, seething. All I wanted to do was get the hell out of here,

"That I'm a worthless, piece of shit –"

"I wasn't," I shake my head, barely able to keep myself from losing it. "I'm talking about my tire! You know, the flat one?" I gesture, clutching my hair in my fingers. "It's not all about you, you know!"

"Okay, fair enough, but listen…"

"No! I am not listening. Because there is nothing you could say to me right now that could change anything about how I feel."

I search through my wallet for my AAA card, thumbing through useless giftcards and reward cards in vain.

"Look, I'll give you a ride."

"To hell you will." I pull out my phone, speed-dialing Jasper. "Can you get me? Now." Whatever tone he hears in my voice prompts him to drop whatever he's doing and tell me he'll be there in five.

"Bella, please. Let me drive you home."

"No."

"Bella."

"NO, okay! Just… just go away."

"I won't walk away from you."

"Of course you won't! You're Edward freaking Cullen, and you think you can woo me with your stupid hair, and your stupid smile, and your stupid you." I push my soaked hair out of my face, throwing my wallet back into my bag. "This is why you never wanted to talk about New York, right? Because, oh I don't know, the topic of your freaking wife might come up?"

"Bella, please. I get how you're feeling, okay?"

"Oh, oh really? You do? So you had a girlfriend who conveniently forgot to mention she was married, and you found out when her perfect husband showed up all perfect and glorious and shot you down 300,000 pegs?" He has the good sense to look uncomfortable, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. There was a time I would have found that cute, but now it just makes me angrier. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Because if you really had any idea how this felt, you wouldn't have done it! And you'd turn around right now and walk away, because I am _this_ close to having Jasper run you down with his stupid Jeep!"

Jasper swerves in on the wrong side of the road right then, leaning over to push open the passenger side door.

"Get in."

"Bella, please just let me –" He looks at me in desperation, and even though it doesn't seem possible, my heart seems to break even more. Thankfully Jasper snaps several times in front of my face, breaking my attention.

"Get. In."

I turn my back on Edward, climbing into the car and slamming the door with more force than is probably necessary.

"Are you okay?" Jasper reaches forward to blast the heat as I shiver in the front seat, throwing my drenched coat on the floor.

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Tequila?"

"Yes."

Jasper drives home at what's probably a semi-illegal speed, especially in this rain down the San Francisco hills. He stops at a corner store to buy liquor, but other than that we're silent. If he knows that the water streaming down my cheeks are tears and not residual from the rain, he doesn't say so.

When I walk into our apartment, Rose takes one look at me and pulls down three shot glasses. Jasper sets the bottle down on the counter before walking to his room to change. Rose places her hands on either of my shoulders and guides me to my room, rummaging through my drawers while I strip off my soaked clothes.

"Sleeping with someone at the hospital?" She throws a pair of yoga pants and a faded USF sweatshirt at me.

"No."

"Gay?" She throws a pair of wool socks at me, and I pull them over my frozen feet before we head back towards the kitchen.

"No."

"Crazy ex-wife?" I give her a look that must say it all. She shakes her head and then pours three glasses of tequila and hands me one, raising hers in a mock cheers as I throw mine back.

"Not so much ex. More like current."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jasper walks out of his room, midway through pulling a long sleeved shirt over his head. "You want me to kick his ass?"

"Probably. Maybe you should ask me again tomorrow, though. Right now I'm drinking."

The three of us sink down to the floor, backs against the kitchen cabinets and my head on Jasper's shoulder.

"Married. I mean, why was I so stupid? This is your fault," I poke Jasper in the chest, glaring. "You were the one with all the stupid 'Take a chance Bella, trust him Bella,' crap." I smack his leg for good measure, and he pushes my shoulder.

"So not my fault. Bet his face was pretty classic when she showed up, though."

Rose grabs the bottle from my hands, sipping straight from the top. "Is she ugly at least?"

"No. That's the worst part. She's beautiful – painfully beautiful. Pale blonde hair, blue eyes, size negative zero, stupid heart shaped face type of beautiful. Oh, and she's a doctor, did I mention that?"

Everybody's quiet as we pass the bottle back and forth, slumping a little more with each sip.

"I'm sleeping with Dr. McCarty," Rose finally says, taking the bottle again.

"What?!" Despite the shittiness of my evening, it's enough to temporarily spark me out of it.

"I know."

"Gross," Jasper mumbles, pushing himself up with little grace from the floor.

"Nothing good comes from sleeping with doctors," I groan, and she rubs circles on my knee with her thumb.

"Great sex does." I snort, placing my hands on either side of my head.

"Yeah and lies, and heart break, and hot wives from across the stupid country."

"Well cheers to that, thanks B."

.o.o.o.

I manage to successfully avoid Edward when I come back to work for all of about five minutes. As I step out of the med room, clutching a 1000 ml bag of normal saline, two sets of IV tubing, and a minibag of Rocephin in my pocket I catch a glimpse of copper hair.

"Bella," he calls my name, motivating me to walk just a little faster. "Bella, come on, you can't ignore me forever!"

"Oh yeah? Watch me."

I round the corner and walk smack into his wife in a coral pencil skirt and white blouse, fresh faced and blonde and leggy as ever.

The IV bag hits the floor and bounces, covering me in roughly 1000 ml of fluidsaline and causing Tanya to jump back. Because there is no God, not even a drop gets on her.

"Oh gosh, what a waste. You know I recall from medical school saline tends to be much more effective in the patient's veins, not on the patient's nurse." She flashes me a smile, and smoothes out the front of her skirt.

"Really? Gosh I must have missed that day in school. Silly me, and here I've been going about everything all wrong this whole time." I gather up my supplies and storm off straight for the employee lounge. It's faded green OR scrubs for me again today. I change, cursing the name Cullen and everything and anything to do with it. I switch everything over from the pockets of my soaked scrubs to the new clean ones, slipping the minibag of Rocephin into my pocket. Of course the 1000 ml bag spilled, not the 100 ml one.

"Hey Bella!" Jake greets me, as I head for the med room again.

"Hi, Jake."

"Wow, Bella. Try to curb your enthusiasm, I'm overwhelmed."

"Sorry, it's just been a rough day."

He raises an eyebrow at me over his computer screen, inhalers and Atrovent packages cluttered on the work surface of the portable computer workstation. "It's 8 am. You've only been here two hours, how is that even possible?"

I laugh, although it's humorless. "Oh, trust me. It's possible. I'm five minutes away from just calling in sick and self-medicating."

Something hits the back of my head and I jump, turning around to see a silver foiled wrapped triangle bounce to the side of the hall. "What the –"

"Chocolate is the second best self-medication." He winks, gathering up his stuff and heading for a patient room.

I shrug, pausing and then leaning down to pick it up. I place it in my pocket and give him a smile. "Thanks. I'll let you know how it works."

I hang my IV bags with much more success this time, checking in on all of my patients. Shelley's wrath from before is completely a thing of the past, and if anything she seems to have taken a little sympathy on me since everything.

After auscultating breath sounds, bowel sounds, checking pedal pulses and skin integrity, I find Rose for a break from everything and everyone.

"How's screwing the good doctor?" I nudge her in the side and she rolls her eyes, pulling my ponytail.

"How's being screwed by the not-so-good doctor? Ew, why's your hair wet?"

"Touché. I dropped an IV bag trying to run from Edward and running into his charming wife." Her eyebrows shoot up somewhere around her hairline, lips forming into a small O.

"Wow. Let me guess, you got soaked and she didn't even get a drop on her Versace?"

"Oh but of course. Would it go any other way?" I swing open the door to the supply room and as soon as we step in, we're interrupted by rising voices a few rows of shelves over. I start for the door when I catch a glimpse of cornsilk and copper, but Rose covers my mouth and pulls us both down, ducking behind the linen cart.

"We had plans to talk."

"I got paged. You can't just show up at my work whenever you please."

"You were paged over six hours ago, Edward."

"Yeah well, things came up. And then my patient was having a panic attack, so I stayed with her. I can't just slip her a Norco and call it a day."

"Last I checked that's what PRN Ativan is ordered for! And besides, you can't do that with every patient just because they're afraid."

"Well, that's what I do Tanya. I support my patients. You of all people should understand that, being an oncologist."

"Well, the level of _doctoring_ your patients seem to need borders on unreasonable."

"There was something wrong!"

"Yeah, something is wrong. Something's definitely wrong. Part of it is your patient, but the bigger part is you!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You really don't see it, do you? You're so _available_ you make it easy for patients to take advantage of you! I mean, come on. You have to set some boundaries with your patients, your _nurses_…"

"Stop! God damnit Tanya, stop trying to tell me how to be a doctor, how to run my life. I was doing just fine before you showed up."

"Well I'm here now. And the choices you make, they don't just affect you. They affect me too, they affect _our _life, Edward. How is it that you can commit to these patients, nurses you barely know but you can't commit to me?"

"It's not rocket science, I took an oath when I became a doctor."

"You also made vows!"

"Don't you dare talk to me about vows, Tanya. So did you, although you seemed to conveniently forget the 'faithful partner' piece of those! I'm going to continue looking after my patients the way I always have no matter how crazy insecure jealous you are!"

"This is not about me!"

"Oh really? Everything else is, why should this be different?"

"I'm trying here, Edward. That's more than you're doing!"

"That's the thing. I didn't ask you to try, Tanya. I didn't ask you to show up here and derail everything I'd worked for and the new life I was building. You don't get to fuck half of New York behind my back for three months and then come here and play the victim!"

I tug on Rose's sleeve, pointing at the door. She nods, reaching up to grab a package of rolled gauze before we slip out.

"Holy shit."

"I know, right? So are you going to talk to him now?" When I look at her like she's an escaped psych ward patient she just rolls her eyes. "Oh come on, he said it himself. She was sleeping around – they were probably separated, in the process of getting divorced. So you should at least talk to him."

I leave her in the hallway, stewing in my thoughts. My brain feels like it's been placed in a blender, and before I even have time to comprehend what I think about all of it, Dr. McCarty walks by. He gives me a small smile and a wave, and starts to head for the stairs.

"Hey!" I yell, causing him to jump and turn around. The two of us have always been on relatively good professional terms, so the look of surprise on his face at my tone is justified.

"Uh, hi?"

"Are you messing with Rose?" I back him up against the wall, pointing my finger at his chest.

"No!" He puts both hands up in surrender, looking genuinely afraid.

"Are you sleeping with other people?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Do you have a secret life in another state you're not telling her about?"

His shoulders relax and he gives me a sympathetic look. "Bella, no, of course not. Look I get –"

"Do you have a leggy blonde wife who's going to show up and ruin Rose's life?"

He sighs, placing his hands on my shoulders and gently moving me to the side. "Look, I get that beyond the hospital you and I don't know each other, and Rose told me what happened, okay? I get that recently you had your heart put through a meat grinder. But that's not who I am. I went to med school after my college football career was cut short when I had to get spine surgery. I talk to my mom every Sunday. I've had girlfriends before, but I'm not married and I'm not seeing anyone else. I like Rose, and I'm not going to screw her around."

I take a deep breath, crossing my arms over my chest. "You didn't let me finish my speech." He nods, gesturing for me to continue. "IF any of those things end up happening, I am going to kick your ass. Jasper will help, and Rose will too because she's a badass. And then we'll throw you into the back of his jeep and dump your body in the Pacific Ocean."

He nods, sticking out his hand. "Fair enough. I can't promise that I won't ever hurt her, Bella, but I can promise that I don't have secret girlfriends and I'm not trying to mess her around."

"Well, thanks." I take a deep breath, leaning against the wall and letting my shoulders slump.

"For what?" He leans next to me, one shoulder making contact with the wall and arms crossed.

"I don't know. Being a good guy, I guess. Not telling me I'm an idiot. Pick your favorite."

"Bella," he places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing slightly. "Edward's a good guy, just shitty circumstances. And you're not an idiot, either."

"I guess we'll be seeing each other more often, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so." I pause, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. "Niners or Raiders?"

He laughs, smirking at me. "Raiders. All day every day." He shakes his head as I mime sticking my fingers down my throat. "Don't tell me you're an SF Whiners fan?"

"Oh don't even get me started…"

"Of course you are. Ready to get your assess kicked again on Sunday?"

"Ready to get yours kicked Monday?"

"I think this is the beginning of a pretty awesome friendship."


End file.
